To Protect and Defend
by Bluemousey
Summary: A gifted woman fights to safeguard the innocents she is sworn to protect as she struggles to keep a promise to a man she once loved. From the 21st century to the year 1881 she travels to track the evil that may alter history. Doc Holliday, Tombstone Story
1. Introduction: The Telling of a Tale

**WARNING: This story is meant for Mature Adults Only. It contains strong language and sexual contents. If the reader has objections to this type of literature, or is under the age of 18, then please DO NOT read this story.**

**Author's Note, July 16, 2010: **

Some of the chapters within, mostly the earlier ones have been revised to enrich, clarify or to blatantly satisfy my own sense of self-pride. The storyline is the same, but I hope what I have added, tweaked or reworded, will make some of the paragraphs flow a little smoother and will deepen the reader's understanding of character's drive and thought processes.

Enjoy!

VTY,  
Bluemousey

* * *

**TO PROTECT AND DEFEND  
**By: Bluemousey

**STORY SUMMARY**

A gifted young woman fights to safeguard the innocents she is bound by an oath to protect as she struggles to keep a promise to a man she once loved. From the 21st century to the year 1881 she will travel to track the evil that threatens to permanently alter world events.

In Tombstone, Arizona, she makes a stand among men who created the concept 'protect and defend'. Her only wish is to end the nightmare she has been living for the past year, but fate has a funny way of cutting its own path, and she finds herself entangled in the lives of the Earp brothers and strangely drawn to the tragic Doc Holliday.

Will she be able to stop the evil that is threatening to consume the town before the past is permanently altered?

* * *

**PREFACE**

**The Telling of a Tale**

There is hardly a soul alive who has not heard the story about the shootout in the vacant lot next to the O.K. Corral. Maybe one or two could boast that they had been children during that era, or that their father or grandfather had been walking the streets that October day when the Earp brothers and the notorious Doc Holliday stepped from obscurity and into a moral conflict that would never find a resolution. It would be a tale that was often repeated during a family party or picnic. In the dusty hallowed rooms of libraries and universities the blow-by-blow events - before, during and after the shootout - would provide an endless array of arguments - point and counterpoint - raising more than one western scholar's curled lip. The details of the event would be examined with a microscope but never fully understood. Sides would be drawn over which party instigated the fight. Were the Earps and Doc Holliday defending the citizens of the town or were they cold-blooded murders, seeking to cover up their own shady deals? Or, did Ike Clanton and his cohorts meet a fate they had been courting for months? No one would ever be able to fully answer these questions.

Or, just maybe, someone could…

What if I told you all that you've heard, seen, or been taught about the historic 26th day of October, in the year 1881, was wrong? How do I know the answers, and why am I so sure my tale is the only one that should be told? I will tell you, but let me warn you first, my tale is a long one. So, make yourself comfortable, pour a large drink of your best whiskey, and roll a smoke before you lend me your ear.

My name is Alexis Montgomery Holliday, and this is my story.


	2. Free Fall

**CHAPTER 1 – FREE FALL **_(newly revised)_

**_September 2002, Los Angeles, California_**

Dark shadows overtook the hazy glow from an autumn moon, making the trail Alexis Montgomery McCulloch followed more difficult by the hour. The meager light was no help whatsoever for her human eyes. Her companion, however, had no such trouble. Dim light or bright light, it was all the same for him. _Vampire._ The word had such an ominous vibe that could only foretell death and destruction. He looked upon the world with a hunter's vision. _Better eyes to see you with my dear. Isn't that how the nursery story read? _Too bad Little Red Riding Hood wasn't here to give her some solid girl-to-girl advice.

Alex's superiors had offered what counsel she needed, and by their design she found herself working alongside, in the dark, alone, with one of the most notorious vampires ever created. At first she was hesitant, skeptical, and honestly, more than a little frightened, but she obeyed her leaders nonetheless, and was now solely reliant on her companion for help. Angelus, the famous vampire with a soul, renamed, and reborn as Angel. Thanks to Angel's informant they had gotten closer to Malachi, the object of her hunt, then she had previously been in the past thirteen months. So close her heart pulsed like a rabbit's with fear, with grief, and with hope that tonight would be the night she could put her nightmare to rest.

Alexis had followed Angel inside an abandoned warehouse that stood along the pier. Tired, hot and sweaty, they had been pursuing Malachi for the last hour. Finally, it seemed they had him trapped, but just as they entered the building there was a brilliant flash of light. For only a moment Alexis saw Malachi in silhouette, then the light seemed to swallow him and he was gone. In the spot where he had stood was a small leather-bound book.

Angel causally stooped to pick it up.

"Ah, you got to be kidding me! Did he just do what I think he did?" Alex asked, her heart racing the Indy 500 and threatening to win. Placing a calming hand to her chest, she tried desperately to catch her breath. Angel was not in the least bit flustered or breathless. Of course vampires didn't breathe. Nothing to expel, loose, or catch, which vexed her greatly at the moment.

"Yeah, I'm afraid so." He was calmly leafing through the pages looking for any clue to identify the spell Malachi just used.

"I don't believe this!" She spat hotly. Now what the hell was she going to do? Desperate to control her rising anger, she hastily swept a sweaty strand of hair back off her face. "Then how come the book didn't travel with him?"

If Angel was aware of her emotional state he kept it hidden. "Most spell books are protected so they stay earthbound." His demeanor was calm, focused, as he studied the book with an intensity that only a two hundred year old vampire would have. "Here… I think this is the spell he used. Take a look at this."

Reaching into her pocket, Alex pulled out a penlight and snapped it on before leaning over Angel's shoulder. "It's a spell to open a time portal, but to where? Wait…" she gasped with excitement, "look… he wrote something in the margin."

"He altered the spell, directing the portal to a particular time and place," Angel clarified. "It looks like he went to the year 1881, to Tombstone, Arizona. Alex, why would he want to go there?"

She shook her head slowly, thoughtfully. "I have no idea. The western frontier always fascinated Malachi, but I can't imagine why he would want to travel back to that year. In 1881 Tombstone was nothing more then a mining town filled with a lot of saloons, makeshift shacks, tents and a few established commodities that sustained the local populace. In short, the place was a hole on the edge of civilization."

"Yeah, I remember, but there must be something in that town he wants badly enough to risk opening a time portal." He inspected both the front and back covers to the book before fanning the pages and finding no hidden clues.

Alex watched him manipulate the pages of the book while an entirely new concept began to take form in the abscess of her troubled mind. "No doubt. Still, we have to go after him." She held out her hand, palm up, silently asking him for the book.

Without thinking Angel did two things wrong: one, he willing gave her the book, and two, he voiced his inner thoughts without first considering the consequences of his words. "Alex, maybe we should just let him go."

She turned to him, disbelief written all over her face. The urge to scream at him was pressing down on her but all that would come out was a strangled whisper. "How can you say that? My God, think of the damage he could do. Do you realize he could change history? Shit, he could change _my_ history. He could wipe out my entire existence. No, Angel, we have to go after him."

He held up his hands in a defensive position not only to ward off another bout of her anger but to also concede his mistake. "Okay, I know you're right, but I just feel we should think this through. I want to consult Wesley first before we go stumbling through the past chasing after Malachi. Let's regroup back at the office with Spike and the others before we do anything rash."

Alex rolled her eyes with frustration. "No, Angel, we should leave now! We have the book with the incantation he used. I don't want to waste anymore time."

She looked imploring at him as he considered her last statement. In the dim light of the warehouse his dark-handsome features were difficult to distinguish. If she closed her eyes it would be hard to tell he was standing just a few inches away. His vampire ability to blend into the darkness was alarming. At times he could be utterly still, neither moving nor breathing, naturally. Emitting nothing, just stillness – unnatural stillness – that he could use to his advantage if he wanted to, taking you completely by surprise if he should spring to life and pounce on you. It had taken her weeks of working with him to acquire the level of trust she held for him now. But Angel had proven himself worthy time after time. She not only trusted him completely, she would lay down her life for his, if need be.

Spike was another story. His assistance with her campaign was a bonus, in a strange Twilight Zone kind of way. Spike was a conundrum. He was bad, through and through, as bad as Angelus could be, and yet, at the same time there was something about him that made you pause. Something hidden that you would see in flashes but only when your attention was diverted elsewhere, and then the spirit of another man would suddenly come into view just beyond the corner of your eye. If you blinked you missed it, and in missing it you began to yearn to see it again. There was an air of vulnerability about him, laced with a tinge of inner wisdom and nobility that made you want to sit opposite of him with a large bottle of spirits between you and ask how he came to be what he was today. Was the fact that he was a vampire disturbing? Definitely, but he was once again bound with his soul. How or when this phenomenon occurred she didn't know. She had not been notified of his association with Angel. Her superiors were either not aware of Spike's presence in town or his condition was considered stable and therefore not deemed a threat. When he offered to help, she gladly accepted his assistance.

"Please," she pleaded to Angel, "if we leave now, he will only be minutes ahead of us."

"Not necessarily." Angel quickly answered with a thoughtful shake of his head. "Time travel is a fourth dimensional concept and it's a tricky thing to maneuver. If we step into the same portal Malachi opened – and that's a _big_ if – he could very well be a few minutes ahead of us or a few months behind us."

He turned away from her to think about what to do, and she threw up her hands in frustration. Couldn't he tell his sudden indecisiveness was only causing her more anguish? The words, _time_, _time, time_, seemed to go around and around in her head. When in her life had time seem so important. Every minute they delayed gave Malachi the advantage to change the future; they had not a second to lose. She glanced down at the ancient book in her hands, shining the small light across the page and silently read the words again. The spell was written in Latin, an old form of Latin that even the Catholic Church no longer used. On the edge of the page, etched in pencil, Malachi had written the words that would modify the spell and take him to a particular place in time.

"Malachi, what's in Tombstone that you want?" She mumbled to herself as she turned off the flashlight and placed it back inside her pocket.

Turning to the man who had been her friend and advisor for the past two months, she snapped, "Angel, what the hell are you doing?"

"I'm calling Wesley; I need to know something before we proceed." With cell phone in hand he kept his back turned toward her, wanting only to forestall her rising anger while he talked to his colleague. If he been thinking with half a brain he never would have given her the book in the first place, let alone take his eyes off of her while she examined it. But like the old saying, "hindsight is better than foresight", there was no way he could have predicted what Alex did next.

She was furious with him now, and also very, very determined to see this through. Shouldering the long strap of her weapon bag across her chest, Alexis walked several yards away from him, and from memory she spoke aloud the Latin spell just has Malachi had done moments before.

Almost instantaneously, she heard Angel scream her name and then the world around her abruptly ceased to exist. Light as bright as the sun exploded in her face, seeping through her clenched eyelids, firing rockets of stars behind her eyes that temporarily wiped out her vision. She cried out, throwing up her hands in an involuntary effort to protect her eyes. Briefly, she realized that her voice had abandoned her, leaving her mute and unable to cry for help before that thought was ripped away by pain, white-hot pain, which seemed to encase her entire body. Even her hair hurt. But that wasn't the worst part; she was freefalling through time and space with no idea if she would ever stop. A terror she had never experienced raced unchecked through her mind. What if she never stopped falling? What if she spent eternity lost in this wormhole of time she had willing stepped into?

_Stupid, stupid, stupid_, were the last coherent thoughts she remembered before her body struck solid ground.

* * *

**_September 1881, Tombstone, Arizona_**

Wyatt Earp paused to admire his latest achievement while he tied his black stallion to the hitching post. The Oriental was hopping tonight. There was no doubt in his mind this saloon was the place to drink, socialize and gamble. Seven days a week it ran practically nonstop. Sadly, the business was the only thing that seemed to be going well with his life, but the hustle and bustle of the saloon gave every appearance of contentment and prosperity, and that was all that really mattered.

One of the first things he learned as a businessman, aside from procuring a clean, stylish wardrobe, was presenting the correct public image. At first glance a passerby would see a well-dressed man in his early thirties with a full head of brown hair that still retained traces of blonde that he had sported in youth. A thick heavy mustache completely concealed his lips, surrounded by a clean-shaven face, and sharp blue eyes that missed very little when studying his environment. He was not often told he was handsome, but his features were certainly not homely. Ironically, it wasn't his face that drew attention but rather his demeanor. If an observer were asked to describe Wyatt Earp they would most likely say he was an averaging looking man, calm, collected, but very reserved.

Outwardly, Wyatt never let his feelings show. The ability to appear composed came easily for the ex-lawman. He had never been one to gush and cackle like an idiot. Even as a child he had always appeared quiet and withdrawn when in actuality he was just watchful and cautious. As he grew into manhood his manner lent him an air of danger and fearlessness, which proved to be extremely useful when controlling a boisterous crowd of drunken miners or cowboys.

Tonight his expression was no different, revealing not a hint of the underlining turmoil he was experiencing, but beneath the stillness he was feeling the full effects of his sour mood as he kicked the toe of his boot several times against the post to loosen a knot of mud from the sole of his shoe. _How_, he wondered, _could so much discontent be dumped upon one individual all at the same time? One minute you're traveling along with purpose, happy and sure of your destiny, and the next you're floundering, arms flailing outward as you struggle to keep your balance._ Wyatt wasn't sure how to sum up the cause of his misfortune. Morgan, his younger brother, would blame it on fate, karma, or some other cosmic nonsense. His mystic-minded brother always applied a spiritual outlook on life and the world around him, but Wyatt wasn't that liberal in his way of thinking. Perhaps all his current trouble was penance for some great wrong he caused another at some earlier time, or maybe it was just rotten luck. All he knew for certain was his love life and his family life were quickly going to hell and as hard as he tried he was unable to stop the downward slide.

His foremost concern was the strained relations between his brothers and himself. Opinions about town matters and law enforcement were the chief cause. Admittedly, Tombstone, Arizona, was not the best place to settle down with family, he knew that now. Crime was rapid in the growing mining town. Someone was either killed or seriously wounded nearly everyday. Furthermore, there seemed to be a rise in unrelated or mysterious deaths for which the town doctor was unable to determine a cause. In the last few days several children were found dead, leaving the bereaved parents looking for answers. Wyatt knew that it was a cold hard fact that life on the frontier was especially hard on children, but what was odd and disturbing about the deaths was the discovery of the bodies on the outside of the homes. Why would sick children wander off?

In addition to the mysterious deaths of the children, a few vagrants had been found dead within the town limits also from some undetermined illness. Wyatt couldn't put his finger on it but there was something about Tombstone that was down right spooky, but they were settled now so he tried his best to ignore as much of it as he could.

Apparently, Virgil could not. Without consulting Wyatt, his older brother had taken up the position of town sheriff, and, as usual, his youngest brother, Morgan, backed the elder's play as deputy. This left Wyatt in the most uncomfortable position he had ever encountered. He wanted to stand with his brothers when trouble arose, but at the same time he longed for a peaceful life.

It seemed peace was not something he would have at work or even at home. Mattie, his common-law wife, was also a source of frustration to him at the moment. Instead of being the wife he wanted, she was increasingly upset by just about everything. First, the house they rented was too small. Then the town was not cosmopolitan enough. There were not enough shops, or what shops the town had did not carry the nicest cloth, shoes, or hair combs. But mostly she complained about the amount of time he spent with his brothers at the saloon. Unfortunately for Mattie, he found it very easy to spend all of his waking hours at the Oriental, anything to escape the stress he felt at home

He tried to be a good husband and deal with her complaints as best as he could, offering to take her on trips to larger cities to go shopping, or to mail order the little things she needed to make her life more pleasant. Still, she never seemed happy with the effort he extended, and when Mattie was unhappy she drank laudanum. So, consequently, when she wasn't complaining she was stoned.

Their relationship was stretched thin; Wyatt knew it and so did Mattie. Their arguments, which at first had been mild and short lived, typically ending with Mattie in tears and Wyatt remorsefully, repentant and eager to appease her, were now full-blown battles. She would become a screaming banshee, throwing good china at his head, and he in turn would resort to brutality, slapping her into submission. Afterwards, when he finally calmed down he would regret his treatment of Mattie, especially when the bruises on her face would appear. It was wrong to hit a woman. He had not been raised to be hard-handed to the gentler sex, but when they fought it was as if another person took control of his body and mind. He didn't like being so out of control, and yet he couldn't seem to stop himself. As their arguments increased so too did Mattie's drug use. The situation seemed hopeless.

To make matters worst, a week after they arrived in town Wyatt had met the women of his dreams. If there was such a thing as love at first sight he had experienced it first hand. Josephine Marcus was her name, an actress in a traveling troop of stage performers, and she was the most exciting, beautiful creature he had ever met. In a few weeks she would be moving on to her next destination and he would never see her again. For the past couple of days he had teetered between longing to see her, and trying to avoid her company in the hope of saving his marriage.

His boot heels sounded as he stepped onto the wooden walkway that served as a sort of sidewalk in front of the saloon. When he approached the front doors he was greeted by his reflection in the beveled glass windows. His tall frame topped with a black Stetson almost reached the crest of the doorframe. Peaking through the window he secretly observed the activity in the main room. _Yep, things were not what they should be,_ he thought, as he stepped through the doors of the Oriental, _not even close_.

"Wyatt," Doc Holliday called out in a carefree tone, "where the dickens have you been?"

Wyatt acknowledged his friend's greeting with a curt nod as he stopped at the bar to get his usual cup of coffee. Sipping the hot brew, he made his way through the crowded room to the faro table where Doc was holding court.

Without breaking his rhythm as he started a new round of betting, Doc remarked on his friend's glum appearance. "Wyatt, my friend, you look as if you should be drinking something a little more substantial." Glancing quickly at his companion Kate who stood at his shoulder he continued, "Darlin', get my friend a large glass of spirits. We shall endeavor to elevate his state-of-mind."

Wyatt held up his hand, signaling his reluctance to go along with Doc's teasing tonight. "Thanks Doc, but I'll stick to coffee."

The gambler's steady eyes quickly lost their humor, fell away from Wyatt's face and back down to the faro table. "Well then, pity us who must suffer your company." He murmured while clearing the loser's chips from the felt tabletop.

Wyatt noticed the slight, but as usual it was smothered with Doc's Southern wit and charm. The two men had been close friends for more than two years, and since settling in Tombstone, Doc Holliday, Southern dentist turned gambler, and his mistress, Kate Elder, had been regular fixtures at the Oriental. Doc's comment tonight was just his way of expressing concern over his friend, and at the same time he was letting Wyatt know his dark mood was getting tiresome.

Determined to lift his spirits, Wyatt took interest as his friend worked the faro table, orchestrating one winning hand after another. The gambler's smooth movements and serene expression masked the cunning mind and quick mathematical calculations Wyatt knew were the foundations of his success at cards. Not even Doc's cough, a product of his consumption that would shake his thin frame several times an hour, broke his concentration. The man was infallible…well, almost infallible.

His friend had one or two idiosyncrasies that would manifest on a regular basis. The first was his disposition. Doc's temper was as forthright and as sharp as his hand at cards. Fortunately, he was not easily offended. The common everyday things that might setoff any other person never roused Doc's passion. Drunken cowboys and miners were part of the Western motif and when a fight broke out over a woman or a hand at cards, Doc took all this in stride, hardly batting an eye at the ruckus. He was also easy to joke with and tease, often reciprocating with more wit than he received. But Doc had very strong principals and when he felt they were being stepped on it was only a matter of seconds before he would explode, turning into a bullet spitting, cursing madman.

It took Wyatt a good six months to figure the dentist out. The rules were as follows: it was all right to joke with Doc, win his money in a game of cards, or tease him about his proper manners and speech, and Doc would take it all very well, but call him a liar or a cheat, pry into his personal business, question his loyalty or abuse a woman within plain sight and a half second later you'll find a gun cocked and pointed in your direction. Wyatt caulked it all up to Southern temperament in combination with the consumption that was slowly pulling him into a dark grave.

Doc's other fault reared its head more frequently then his temper, which was to drink whiskey and play cards until he passed out. Then Kate – good faithful Kate – would take charge of the winnings and her inebriated lover. Wyatt and his brothers had noticed long ago that Kate always managed to shove the money in her carpetbag first, and then work on getting Doc back to the hotel and into bed. Wyatt had to admit, the woman had her priorities.

Despite his illness Doc was still a young, handsome man. He looked and acted every bit the wealthy Southern gentleman he claimed to be. Although some men in town questioned his upbringing, Wyatt had no doubt the gambler was who he said he was.

When Dr. John Henry Holliday, D.D.S. first arrived in Tombstone, he had immediately captured the attention of many of the females in town. It seemed women were eager to draw the attention of the educated dentist. His physical appearance alone caused a stir. Doc's tall build, ash-blond hair and mustache, piercing blue eyes, and impeccable dress, gave him the air of nobility when compared to the dirty miners and laborers that made up most of the town's men-folk. In the first few weeks he ran the faro table, the Oriental had been swarming with pretty young women hovering around the card table laying their bets and their hearts on Doc Holliday. Sadly, one-by-one all left with broken hearts and empty wallets.

Wyatt couldn't figure out why but Kate seemed to be the only female his friend paid any attention to, and in Wyatt's opinion the depth of that relationship did not come close to piercing Doc's heart. Perhaps it was his illness and the ultimate outcome of that illness that kept Doc from loving anyone too deeply. When Wyatt observed them together there seemed to be an air of coldness and lack of passion between them. Almost as if Doc was pretending to be enamored with Kate, and she in turn was tolerant of his habits and disposition as long as he had money. Every few months the façade collapse. There would be a turbulent fight, and Doc would throw Kate out of his hotel room, or she would willingly leave. After some time apart they would make up and Kate would return.

Whatever the arrangement, Doc seemed to be content, and Wyatt felt he was not in the position to talk to his friend about his personal life. Still, Wyatt often wished the dentist would find someone who would help him settle down. Perhaps a good woman would encourage him to take better care of his health. Wyatt feared one of these days he would drink until he passed out and there would be no getting back up. He wondered if Kate would stick around to nurse her companion, or perhaps take the first stage out of town to seek better prospects elsewhere. Only time would tell.

At the end of the night, Wyatt braced his arm around Doc as he helped his inebriated, stumbling friend back to Fly's boarding house where Doc let a room.

"I'm much obliged, Wyatt." Doc sighed loudly when he was finally settled against the bed pillows.

Because Kate had left the room for the facilities down the hall, Wyatt felt obligated to help Doc take off his boots and to loosen his collar and tie. "Doc, did it ever occur to you that all this drinking isn't good for you. Lately, you seemed to be getting worse." He criticized while placing one hand on the heel of Doc's boot and the other near the toe. Wyatt pulled until the leather boot slipped free exposing one black sock. Neither man took particular note of the several poker chips and one ace of spades playing card that spilled from inside the shoe. Casually, Wyatt leaned over to pick them up and placed them on the night table.

"Yes, so it would seem, my friend, and I might add not fast enough. My time on this earth has been long enough." Doc's normal soft southern drawl was only slightly more enhanced by his inebriated condition. The man held his liquor so well sometimes it was the only way Wyatt could gage just how intoxicated his friend was.

"Don't talk like that." The ex lawman groused while removing the other boot, noting the absence of any poker memorabilia.

"Why the hell not." Doc retorted loudly before coughing softly several times. "It's the damn truth." Again, Doc sighed but continued in a gentler tone. "I'm tired Wyatt. I'm tired of hotel rooms, tired of gambling, and tired of this hot-dusty climate. Hell, I'm even tired of women. Basically Wyatt, I'm just tired of life."

Noticing the sheen of tears in Doc's blood shot eyes, Wyatt sat down on the bed next to his friend realizing, for perhaps the first time, how the gambler's health was much worse then previously known. Alarmed, he quickly filled a shot glass with whiskey and guided it to his friend's trembling hand. "Here drink this."

"Thank you, Wyatt. Whiskey seems to be my only comfort lately." He eyeballed the golden liquid for a moment before asking, "Why do you think that is?" Deftly, he tipped back the glass and drained in.

Wyatt let the question pass by without answering it. "I still think you drink too much Doc."

"My better half – that small measure of sanity that I have left – is inclined to agree with you. Unfortunately, the poignant Shakespearian tragedy that is my darker side is too fucking weary to give a goddamn." Somewhat fortified by the whiskey, Doc set the glass down on the table. Eyes, which were uncommonly alert for a man as drunk as Doc was, settled on Wyatt with a hidden purpose. "But let us talk of other things. Tell me my friend, what has you so melancholy."

Wyatt laughed softly. "It's nothing. Just what you said, tired of life. I'll work through it."

Wyatt's awkward attempt at shrugging off his discontentment didn't fool Doc. Secretly, he knew a lot more about the reasons for Wyatt sour mood then he was letting on. The rumors about Mattie's drug addiction had reached his ears weeks ago. That girl was a sad ending waiting to happen and there was nothing Wyatt could do to help her. Doc wished he could spare him that pain. As for relations with Virgil and Morgan… Well, family was family, perhaps things would still improve.

"Do you know what I wish for, Wyatt?" Doc volunteered while helping himself to another shot of whiskey.

"No, tell me."

He tossed back the drink before suddenly resurrecting a childhood wish he had buried long, long ago. "I have always desired a life filled with the love of friends, family and lots of children. I want a home situated in a green, peaceful valley. That is what I wish for. It is what I have always wanted."

Wyatt paused, taken by complete surprise at the pure, naked dream that the hardened gambler just related and then he smiled. "Me too, Doc."

"I shall never have that, Wyatt." Doc held up his hand to halt any protests while suppressing several coughs. "It is a fact, an end result of my illness and dissolute habits. But you, my friend, you should stride to reach your goal, no matter what."

Before Wyatt could comment or argue further, Kate returned to the room having just changed into her dressing gown. Doc took one look at Kate and Wyatt could almost see the dentist's open expression close-up tight, as if aloof dispassionate shades were drawn over his eyes, blacking out any and all intimate emotion, leaving just the cold gambler behind. Wyatt knew then it was time to leave. Doc had made his point, had said all that he would say for the night, and now his sermon was concluded. Slowly, he stood up to take his leave. "Get some rest, Doc."

"Wyatt…" Doc called with purpose, while fixing him one last time with his steel-blue eyes, "think on what I said."

Wyatt nodded once. "I will. Good night Kate."

"Night, Wyatt." She called.

Noon the next day, Wyatt sat at the bar of the Oriental and watched his brothers, Virgil and Morgan, play a game of billiards. The three men were enjoying the first peaceful conversation in days. While he watched his brothers play, Wyatt was trying his best to chew through a steak and potatoes dinner from one of the local restaurants.

He leaned into the knife, elbow extended out from the effort he made, and tried to cut another slice of beef. After sawing for what seemed a lifetime, he managed to cut a bite-size chuck and fork it into this mouth. He chewed, jaws grinding, teeth flashing occasionally from under his mustache before he abruptly stopped to spit the offensive grizzle into the nearest spittoon. "Goddamn! This is like eating my saddle." Disgusted by the tough meat, he tossed down his fork and knife on the half-eaten meal.

Doc's cheerful voice drifted in from the open doorway. "Well then, perhaps it is your saddle. Have you checked lately?"

Dressed in his usual Sunday best, his black hat tipped slightly to one side, Dr. J. H. Holliday, D.D.S, displayed none of the fractured personality he had so carelessly loosened on Wyatt the night before. Today, he looked rested, healthy and ready to take on the world. His causal Southern stroll carried his thin frame with a refinement Wyatt had often admired.

Smiling as his friend eased through the open door, Wyatt reached out his hand in welcome. "Doc, good to see ya."

Shaking Wyatt's hand firmly, Doc tired his best to subtly relay his apologies for his weaken state the night before. "It's good to be seen, my friend." Turning to greet Virgil and Morgan with a polite nod of his head, Doc then took a seat at a small table across from the bar, giving him a good view of the billiard game.

Milt Joyce, the bartender and also the proprietor of the Oriental appeared to offer Doc his usual drink but the gambler stopped him with a slight raise of his hand. "I thank you, sir, but I believe I'll have coffee instead, black please."

Wyatt raised his brows at Doc but wisely kept his mouth shut. Doc, however, had other ideas.

"Oh, come now Wyatt, surely you know impersonation is deemed the finest complement." Emitting a bright smile, Doc crossed his right hand over his heart and pledged, "I shall stride to be more like my friend, Wyatt Earp, and less like the drunkard you discussed philosophy with last night."

"Piss on you, Doc." Wyatt muttered.

Laughter erupted from Morgan and Virgil. Even Milt seemed amused as he filled the gambler's coffee cup before returning to his work behind the bar.

Doc reached into his pocket, withdrew his tobacco and began to roll a cigarette as he continued his banter. "You see my friend, there is always hope."

"You sound almost spiritual today, Doc." Morgan offered as he circled the gaming tabling looking for his best shot. He was the youngest Earp, just cresting thirty, and possessed the youthful face to prove it. His dark blonde hair, full mustache, and cool blue eyes marked him as kindred, but he was smaller in frame then his two older brothers, and was often mistaken as weaker then his rugged family members by many troublemakers in town. It was a mistake that each degenerate made only once. Morgan was hotheaded and quick on his feet. His unpredictable anger and swift reflexes often took his opponent by complete surprise. His ability to throw a quick punch was an asset, but this trait was secondary to his sharpshooting skills. Out of all the members of his kin, he alone was the best shot.

Doc gave his friend a know-it-all smile. "Yes, I do indeed, but make no mistake Morgan, my enlightened view does not come from any vision or dream. No, sir, it merely stems from the appalling hangover I woke up with this morning. Hence, the black coffee."

Slightly annoyed at Doc's play on words, Wyatt retorted, "If that is your idea of hope Doc, well you can shove….

"Now Wyatt, contain yourself." Doc interrupted cheerfully while jerking his head toward Virgil and Morgan. "We are in the presence of peace officers, and I intend to be not only sober, but respectable as well. At least for the time being." He concluded his banter by striking a match and pulling hard on his smoke. Smoke rings were born and sailed through the air punctuating the temporary end of Doc's sharp wit.

Wyatt's only recourse was to shake his head and bow to Doc's good humor. If his friend was feeling well enough to tease, then yes, life was good.

As if reading his thoughts, Doc voiced, "It is very peaceful today, don't you agree?"

"For a change." Virgil grumbled.

Doc watched as Virgil's tall lanky frame extended his upper body easily over the pool table to send a striped ball rocketing toward the farthest corner pocket. As the eldest brother, Virgil Earp was often labeled as an older version of Wyatt. He possessed the same reserved mannerisms, but with one subtle difference. At first glance his graying hair and weathered complexion gave him a stern appearance, but secretly he had a tender sentimental side to his personality that Doc attributed to his many years of being happily married.

Before another billiard ball was skating toward a corner, and before Doc could blow another smoke ring and launch a new topic for discussion, the tranquility of saloon's peaceful mood was abruptly disturbed by a loud commotion and a distressed cry originating from the alley that ran along side the Oriental.

"Stop thief! Help! He stole my bag."

The room went still and all five men looked toward one another and waited for the inevitable gunshots, but instead of death ringing through the air, the call for help was followed by a loud thud as if someone or something was thrown hard against the outside wall of the building, causing Doc to jump unexpectedly in his chair.

Virgil put down his clue stick as he followed Wyatt and Morgan outside to see what was going on.

Staying seated, Doc calmly tapped the hot ash of his cigarette into the glass ashtray and muttered, "So much for peace and quiet." He listened eagerly for the second clash that was sure to occur once Virgil arrived on the scene and he was not disappointed. Seconds later Virgil's gruff, yet commanding, voice could be heard barking, "What the blazes is going on?"

There was another thump that Doc thought sounded suspiciously like the heel of a boot kicking the wall followed by a high-pitched juvenile voice. "Hey! Get off of me, damn it. You're making a mistake. That man took my bag and you're letting him get away. Let go of me."

"Ouch." Virgil yelled. "Hold still. I'm trying to help you."

Chuckling softly, Doc took a sip of his coffee as he considered giving his friends a hand.

There was more yelling and another shout of "ouch" this time from Wyatt before the three men stormed through the saloon door with Wyatt struggling to hold a young boy who seemed determined to fight rather then listen to what the older men where trying to say.

Wyatt finally set the boy loose and stepped back quickly as the youngster took a wild swing at Wyatt's head. Easily ducking the blow, Wyatt shoved against the boy's shoulder, pushing him back against the bar. "Goddamn it, stop fighting! We're trying to help you." He commanded in his most forceful peace officer voice.

Highly amused by the afternoon entertainment, the gambler took another pull from his smoke, crossed his ankle over his knee and watched the scene unfold. Judging from the boy's meager frame, Doc guessed his age to be between fourteen and sixteen years old. He was dressed in threadbare dungarees, and instead of a belt, a length of rope wrapped round his small waist held his pants in place. His shirt had been blue at one time, but was now so filthy Doc doubted even the toughest lye soap would get it clean. The knit cap on his head completely covered his hair, but considering the rest of his attire, Doc doubted whatever was shoved underneath would be any cleaner than his clothing.

The young man faced the room with his back against the bar. The high state of his agitation was obvious by the constant way he shifted his weight back and forth between his feet, like a prizefighter sparing in a ring. Fists that were still itching to strikeout clenched and unclenched at his sides. "Idiot." He spit at Wyatt. "That man stole from me, not the other way around."

Virgil grumbled in reply, and rubbed his hand over his face. A habit he had, Doc noticed, when he was stressed to know what to do next. "Look son," the eldest Earp began, "you need to calm down."

But from the wild look in the young man's eyes, Doc knew calm was not on the agenda. As soon as Wyatt turned to look in Virgil's direction the boy leaped forward, kicked Wyatt firmly in the shin and bolted toward the saloon door.

The lawman let out a cry of pain, cursed loudly and ran after his captive, barely managing to grab the boy by the back of his shirt before he breached the doorway. With more force then he would normally display, he set the youngster firmly down in a chair, pointed a finger at him and shouted, "Don't move a muscle!"

Rubbing his wounded shin he limped toward his younger brother and yelled, "Morgan, damn it, give me your gun."

"I hardly think that is necessary, Wyatt." Doc quickly interrupted in a soft voice that was dripping with humor. Standing to take his empty cup to the bar for a refill, he addressed the young man in his best Southern genteel voice. "John Henry Holliday, at your service." He oozed with a slight tip of his hat. "Please tell us how we may be of assistance."

This gentle approach seemed to startle the boy who turned to look at the gambler for the first time. There was a moment of recognition that flashed on the young man's face, but Doc was not surprised. Most locals in town knew who he was, either by sight or by name. Ironically, his reputation, as soiled as it was, seemed to bring out the worst reactions in just about every new acquaintance he made regardless of the effort he put forth to display his best manners. It was actually quite amusing at times, although it did restrict his social circle to those persons of lesser integrity and intelligence. Most respectable citizens would have nothing to do with him. The damage was done, and he had long ago resigned himself to the fate that life had dealt him. There would be no deliverance and most certainly no forgiveness that would be followed by acceptance. So when his name or appearance got a negative reaction, Doc did his best to laugh it off, and if he couldn't, he would usually wash his shame in a bottle of whiskey. Not the best road to redemption he knew, but it was certainly affective; half a bottle later and he wouldn't give a fuck who looked down their nose at him.

But this introduction was different. There was something disconcerting about the way the boy's light-green eyes locked on to his. The steady, unbiased gaze he displayed was uncanny. It had been years since anyone had really looked at him without prejudice as this young man was doing. The lad scrutinized every inch of his face, perhaps looking for a scrap of sincerity, before his eyes continue to travel slowly over his form down to his boots and back up again. Doc waited for the standard negative reaction, wondering how it would materialize this time. Would it be a subtle response such as a small twitch around the corners of the mouth resulting in a disdaining frown? Or, would it be the typical crease between the brows right before friendly eyes turned cold and dark? Doc took a slow drag on his smoke and paused…one beat, then two more, and still the boy's expression remained neutral.

Finally the youngster blinked, and instead of disapproval Doc saw admiration, and God help him, was he really seeing a provocative gleam in the boy's eyes. An odd pulse of energy shot through his body when he realized he was not repulsed only intrigued. The impression was fleeting, the spell abruptly broken when Doc asked, "And who might you be, if I may inquire?"

"I…uh, I'm Alex Montgomery." The young man stammered.

"Well, Mr. Montgomery, please tell us how we may be of assistance, as you do seem to be very distressed." Doc continued while gesturing to the bartender. "Milt, get Mr. Montgomery a cup of your excellent coffee."

After handing the steaming brew to the boy, Doc felt it was now safe to continue the discussion from his table. The exchange had left him feeling shaken and unsettled, but also oddly curious. Through a thin haze of cigarette smoke he watched the youth sip at his coffee. There was something out of place about the boy, almost a delicate air to the way he sat in the chair and held his cup. It reminded him of… what? The concept was on the tip of his tongue, floating through his subconscious but hovering just beyond his reach. Whatever it was, it felt strangely familiar.

Sensing Doc's unfamiliar eyes upon him, the boy paused from drinking his coffee and turned his head to stare back. Again, Doc felt that odd pulse of energy strike him squarely in the stomach. It was sexual, of that he was most certain, and the sensation combined with stimulation and embarrassment was uncomfortable enough to make him drop his eyes. Keeping his gaze averted; he put out the remains of his smoke and quickly reached for his papers and tobacco to roll another one while he attempted to make sense of what had just transpired.

Wyatt was having a hard time believing Doc had just manage to give this heathen a cup of steaming coffee. All things considered, he intended to stand back several feet in case the boy decided to use the hot liquid as his latest weapon.

"You said someone had stolen a bag that belonged to you." Wyatt began again, now that tempers had cooled.

The boy swallowed hard and blurted quickly, "Yes, that's correct and if you would let me leave, I will find that individual and get my bag back." Abruptly, he set his coffee down on a nearby table and started to stand when Virgil stopped him. "Not so fast," Virgil said while holding up his one hand. "We didn't see anyone else, only you. If you tell us what happened perhaps we can help."

Huffing loudly, he flopped back into his chair and rolled his eyes with pure frustration. "Don't you understand… he's getting away, and the longer you make me sit here the further he will get?"

"Can you tell us what he looked like? We know a lot of people in this town, perhaps we know him." Wyatt offered.

Scoffing when his request to leave was ignored, the youngster crossed his arms and glared angrily back at Wyatt. Doc tried his best not to laugh; the boy was clearly losing his patience with the Earps, and it was only a matter of seconds before he struck out with fist or foot again. Lingering on the edge of laughter, Doc wondered what Wyatt would do if the child managed to get in a good punch.

"Look…" The boy began again in a tone that resembled an annoyed schoolteacher, "thank you for the coffee and your offer of help, but I think I can handle this on my own."

Struggling to suppress his growing humor, Doc looked from the teenager to Wyatt, wondering who would make the next move. Frustrated and sore, Wyatt limped across the room to stand by the front door. Turning, with his hands braced on his hips, he was a man determined to tackle the situation when suddenly he got a funny expression on his face. In three-long strides he reached the boy and jerked the knit cap off his head.

Long-golden tresses spilled out and down.

Amidst the general outcry from the three Earps, Doc heard the girl exclaim, "Blast!" under her breath.

"I'll be God damned." Wyatt cursed. "You're a girl!"

"My, aren't you brilliant." She spit back while rising from her chair. "Now can I go?"

"You've got to be kidding me?" Morgan finally spoke up after silently observing the scene from his corner near the bar. "It took three grown men to handle a girl?"

Morgan use of the word "handle" reminded Wyatt just how forceful the three men had been. He moved to place a comforting hand under her elbow, thought better of his decision, and took a step back instead. "Ah, hell! I'm sorry if I was a little rough on you." Wyatt stammered. "I had no idea. I mean…. Ah, hell!" Wyatt passed both hands through his hair obviously frustrated and embarrassed over the turn of events.

She placed both hands on her hips and nodded. "Yep, definitely brilliant."

Doc could hold his laughter no longer. He guffawed loudly, tipped forward and nearly fell out of his chair. Reaching out with one hand he braced his palm against the table and halted the movement of his upper body. The sudden jerking motion momentarily stifled his humor, but the tickle spinning wildly in his chest took a turn for the worst when the girl looked sharply in his direction, flipped her waist length hair over her shoulder, and scoffed loudly at his outburst. The snort his issued in response was very uncouth but he couldn't seem to help himself. Again he brayed like a donkey while wrapping his arm around his waist for support and tried hard to ignore the irritated glares Virgil was sending his way.

Situations that would have shocked or deeply offended most people often struck Doc as funny. It was his sense of humor and his dry wit that frequently got him in trouble. Only a few people really understood his unique perspective on life. Wyatt was one of them. Morgan another. It was in their company he felt free to express himself. Virgil on the other hand…well, he had very little sense of humor and rarely laughed. From the look on his face just now, this wouldn't be one of those times.

Only after Milt brought out a bottle of his best whiskey and gave everyone a glass did Doc finally managed to bring himself under control. "Here miss, I think you need this more then they do." Milt poured a generous amount for the blonde who had managed to best three of the most dangerous lawmen the West had ever known.

"Thank you, I believe I do."

Doc stood up to get a better look at this very intriguing young woman for he now fully understood the implications of the uncanny gaze she had fixed on him. The mysterious familiarity he had been experiencing was also solved. Everything about her, from her indignant eye-rolling attitude, and her shin-kicking wild fistfight, to her posture while delicately sipping her coffee had been silently screaming her hidden gender and they had all over looked it.

"Miss. Montgomery? It is Miss. Montgomery, isn't it?" He asked hopefully.

"Ms. Alexis Marie Montgomery." She clarified.

"Ah, hell." Wyatt softly cursed.

"Wyatt, remember your manners." Doc scolded. Trying his best to contain his excitement, Doc looked down into the most beautiful green eyes he had ever beheld. "Ms. Montgomery, would you do us the honor of telling four fools how they can redeem themselves?"

Half a glass of whiskey later, the mysterious girl began to tell her story. What concerned Doc more than anything else was how she ended up disguised as a boy. Underneath the layer of filth that covered her face was a hidden motive for the elaborate deception she portrayed. Several possible scenarios played through Doc's head. Was she a thief or a con artist who was using the Oriental as a temporary hiding place? Or was she lying about being single and was really running from a husband or jealous lover? Neither thought gave him pleasure, particularly the idea that she might be married. A lover he could deal with, but a marriage in his eyes was sacred and not something he would trespass upon. This thought was followed by the realization that within a matter of minutes, he had already decided that if she were unattached he would do his best to pursue a romantic relationship with this girl. How he came to this conclusion was perplexing. This particular young lady was definitely not his standard choice for female companionship. It certainly wasn't her looks that peaked his interest. Girls who dressed in rags were beneath even his social level. His tastes tended toward women who were beautiful, voluptuous, flashy, and came with a price tag, like Kate for instance. But as he watched Alexis brush her long hair away from her face he was puzzled by his emotional reaction. What was it that made him so eager to learn more about her background? After eight-long years of ignoring romance why did he suddenly feel intrigued by this dirty street urchin?

Milt had brought out small bowl of hot water, soap and a towel so she could wash the dirt from her hands, and face. Underneath the grime Doc was surprised to find a hidden beauty with pale flawless skin. Her eyes were a light shade of green rimmed in dark lashes that gave her a feral look. Her nose, now free of soot was small and prim. Her lips, he noted, were really not exceptional until she smiled, only then did their true brilliance show, revealing straight white teeth, and dimples. Unfortunately, her good humor was only for Milt at the moment, for he was the only male in the room that had remained neutral.

Feeling uneasy about his tangled emotions, Doc stayed seated at his table several feet away and let the Earp's talk to the girl while he quietly observed the scene.

"I was traveling with a girlfriend. She's my neighbor, you see. Escorting us was her cousin – well, at least I thought it was her cousin. We arrive here two days ago, and checked in at the Grande Hotel just down the street. Do you know it?" She glanced quickly around the room, making brief eye contact with each man.

All five men nodded.

"What do you mean you thought it was her cousin?" Virgil asked.

Her eyes suddenly filled with tears as her composure crumbled. She gave Virgil a brief nod. "That's what I was led to believe, but when I woke up yesterday I was alone. My friend had left me a note explaining that the man whom she said was her cousin was really her lover. They eloped and took an early stage east! They also took almost all the money and didn't pay the hotel bill! I used the last of my funds to cover the room charge. I didn't know what to do. I walked to the telegraph office to wire my family and I thought I would wait things out until they came to rescue me."

She paused to wipe at her tears and take another sip of whiskey. "My intent was to stay secluded at the hotel, but they wouldn't let me a room because I had no money. I didn't know what to do so I just started walking around, but I received such stares from the men in town. Then some drunk tried to grab me. When I began to fight he stopped manhandling me. I was so glad he stopped I panicked and started to cry, and that's when he stole my bag with all my clothes, personal possessions and what money I saved for food. I wanted to look for the man who stool my bag and thought I would be safer dressed as a boy. I found these clothes outside a house. I stole them. Can you believe it? God help me, but who would want them? Then, just now, I thought I saw the man who took my bag, that's when you three got in my way."

Throughout Alexis' tale, Wyatt would catch a suspicious glance from Virgil and Doc. He could tell neither man completely believed her. Wyatt had to agree, there were definite holes in her story, but the one thing that could not be disputed was her obvious need of their help. For the time being he would have to wait patiently for the answers to his questions.

"Did it ever occur to you to seek help from the law?" Virgil growled; eyes narrowing as his irritation grew.

"What? Here, in this town?" She practically screamed at him. "Where?"

"Ma'am, you're looking at him!" Virgil barked.

Doc watched Virgil's pressure gage spike sharply from the heated discussion. His own temper escalading as well when Alex's body visibly jerked backward, startled by Virgil's rough reply, but before he could jump to her defense her posture suddenly changed, became defiant. Her back stiffened to meet the challenge, shoulders squared, her chin rising to a condescending level while cocking one delicate brow. "Really?" She cooed in a syrupy voice. "Tell me Sheriff, do you usually spend most of your time in a saloon?"

The cough Doc issued had nothing to do with his consumption but was used to camouflage the urge to laugh that was growing by the second. Silently, he noted the score: wayward girl – 1, ill-tempered lawman – 0. With fainted breath he wondered how Virgil would strike back. Miss Montgomery was not at all flustered by Virgil's temper. Composed, she waited for his answer, hands folded, facile expression neutral, but judging from the line in her back she was more than ready to continue the battle. Virgil on the other hand wasn't looking so good. Doc hadn't seen his face this crimson since Ike Clanton decided to get verbally abusive during his last drunken bender three months earlier.

Disappointment rained down on Doc's expectations when Wyatt intervened before tempers became too overheated. "All right, everybody take a break. Things are bad enough as it is." Calmly, Wyatt approached the badly shaken girl "Look, Miss Montgomery….

"Wait, please…." She held up her hand to stop him, the line in her back suddenly bending with her softening resolve. "I've punched you in the stomach, kicked you in the shin, and tried to blacken your eye. I think we've moved beyond formalities, don't you? Please, call me Alex as my family and bruised enemies do."

Wyatt laughed softly at her wit and her abrupt change in temperament. "I'm Wyatt Earp, and these are my brothers Virgil and Morgan." He indicated the two lawmen standing at the bar before nodding to the gambler sitting at a nearby table. "Doc, you've already met, and the gentleman behind the bar is Milt Joyce, the Oriental's proprietor."

She kindly met every eye with a simple nod of her head. "I'm sorry I've caused you such trouble."

"Where is your family, Alexis?" Doc finally interrupted, deciding it was time to get some answers to his growing curiosity. "I will make arrangements today to contact them. And, until they can come to your rescue, please allow me to offer my services as escort and guide."

"Doc, are you sure about this?" Wyatt whispered while shuffling over to the table. "You're single, she's single. It's hardly the appropriate arrangement her family would approve of."

"Wyatt's right, Doc." Virgil voice was low and serious, leaving little option for compromise. "Miss Montgomery would do best to come home with me and I'll get my Allie to look after her."

Wyatt couldn't help but notice the hot flash of temper emerge in Doc's eyes before he looked away to roll another smoke. He wondered if Alexis's arrival had stirred a deep-hidden passion in his friend, and if Doc would make an effort to pursue the pretty blonde while she was in town.

Turning to address Alexis, Virgil explained, "Allie is my wife, Miss Montgomery. You'll be well looked after."

Alexis did her best to offer the lawman and apologetic smile. "Please call me Alex, Virgil. I believe I bit your arm rather hard outside."

Virgil grinned despite the circumstances. "Yes, ma'am you did."

"I've already sent a wire to my family, in Northern California." She explained. "They sent word back that due to heavy rains all travel has been delayed by several weeks. Until then, I've decided to stay at the Catholic Church. Father Martin is making arrangements for my room and board. I shall be quite comfortable." Her chin lifted a notch higher to reflect her determination.

"Are you sure?" Wyatt pressed. "It really isn't necessary for you to room at the church. I know for certain those monks don't cotton to having women around, and the bunks they sleep on are nothing more then wood planks with a straw mat for bedding."

Determine to not to be a burden she shook her head. "But there is something I do need? I need a job so that I can supplement my income until my family arrives. Do you know if anyone is looking for help?"

"Well, I don't know…"Wyatt said as he looked for assistance from the others in the room. He could already guess that Alexis wouldn't want to be employed in the standard trade that most desperate females pursued. Suggesting the idea was out of the question, but the thought was still looming, hanging like stale perfume in the air of the saloon. _God, with the right dress and hairstyle,_ he thought, _she'd make a small fortune in under a month._ Discreetly, he looked her over and even though the rough clothes hid most of her features, he could still imagine the soft contours of her naked body, posed and inviting…

A sharp cough brought him out of his fantasy. Wyatt glanced at Doc who struggled to hide his amusement behind his heavy mustache. The dentist gave him a subtle shake of his head letting Wyatt know his whimsical notions were a bad idea.

"What can you do?" Wyatt finally asked.

"I can teach…" A soft snicker from Doc made her pause and glare angrily at him.

_Of course you can_, Wyatt mused silently, picking up on Doc's secret thoughts. "The school has a teacher and only a few children seem to attend regularly."

"How about a store? I could work in a store."

"Sorry," Wyatt replied with a small shake of his head, "the general store is owned and run by the Miller family."

"Oh…"

"Can you do anything else?" Wyatt asked hopefully while keeping his eyes adverted from Doc's teasing expressions. This time his hopes were permanently destroyed when Virgil growled a warning under his breath.

Alexis chewed on her lower lip for a thoughtful moment, her gaze falling briefly on the cold, half-eaten leather-like steak dinner sitting on the bar. She frowned and said, "I can cook."

"Really?" Wyatt said with renewed hope as he glanced at the leathery remains of his meal. "You can cook?"

"Yes, I am a good cook. Well…or, so I've been told."

"This town needs a good cook. And you know what? Milt has a decent kitchen in the back. How about it Milt, what would you say if we started offering one meal a day to our clientele?"

"Sounds like a good idea to me, Wyatt." Milt agreed. "And if you like Miss, you can stay in the room above the kitchen." He added. "It's not much, but it has a small tub, a bed and a good sturdy lock on the door, too." The last sentence was punctuated with a sly wink, letting her know there would be no monkey business if she chose to accept the offer.

She took a few moments to think over the proposition. "It would make more sense to stay here. The Church is too far to walk to, especially at night. Thank you, Milt, it sounds ideal."

"Well, it a done deal then." Wyatt said with delight. "You've got a job and a place to stay. And we can keep your staying here a secret so we won't turn too many heads. If anyone asks we'll say you're staying with Virgil and Allie."

"You're the one, Wyatt." Morgan chimed.

"Still there is one thing that bothers me…" Alexis added.

"What would that be, Miss?" Asked Milt.

"Well, a proper cook should audition for a position. I'll tell you what, how about I cook the five of you a thank you dinner. If you don't like my cooking, I'll stay at the church and scrub floors."

"Well then, I don't know about the rest of you," Doc replied with his usual cocky smile, "but that sounds like a daisy of a bet to me."


	3. Verbal Volleyball

**CHAPTER 2 –VERBAL VOLLEYBALL **_(revised)_

After Milt showed Alexis the kitchen and the small bedroom above it, he then gave her grocery money from the cash box so that she could purchase the goods needed to cook the evening meal, but before she went shopping Alex asked if she could borrow a change of clothes. While she heated water for the small tub in her room, Virgil retrieved several cotton dresses and a pair of shoes from his wife so Alex would have something decent to wear. While she was upstairs bathing, the men quietly discussed the new situation over a bottle of whiskey.

"I agree with you Wyatt, there's definitely more to her story then she's letting on." Virgil rubbed his hand over his face. "The whole damn thing makes me nervous." He turned to look at his youngest brother. "Morgan, why don't you go down to the hotel and see if anyone there can substantiate her story."

"Good idea." Morgan agreed.

"Tell me Virgil, if our little cook's story doesn't check out what do you intend to do, throw her in jail?" Doc asked as he tossed back another shot of whiskey. All thoughts of sobriety forgotten, he had discarded his black coffee in exchange for a full bottle of Milt's finest.

The lawman's weather worn face crinkled even more as he prepared a sharp retort. Light-blue eyes that were a standard for most of the Earp clan now narrowed with irritation. "Of course not, Doc." He huffed. "But what am I supposed to do, sit on my tail and do nothing?"

"No sir." Doc interjected with one raised finger. "All I'm proposing is to let events unfold naturally. She seems harmless enough and no crime has been committed. Gentlemen, what we have is a juicy mystery, and I, for one, intend to enjoy the drama of the play." He coughed softly several times in succession as he refilled his shot glass.

"You're forgetting her stolen bag. That's a crime." Virgil fired back.

Doc gave him a small grin while raising one deliberate finger. "That stolen bag could very well be a prop in the play."

"What are you implying, Doc, that a beautiful, young girl, with no means of support or family just materialized out of no where? She has to have connections somewhere in town." Wyatt shook his head as he took a sip his glass. "No, I agree with Virgil, we need to check out her story. Morgan can ask the clerk at the hotel and I'll check the telegraph office and around town. Somebody is bound to remember seeing her."

"There is one thing I would like to find out." Wyatt continued. "Where the hell did she learn to fight like that?" He rubbed his shin gently. "I think I'm going to have a bruise."

Milt suddenly coughed loudly, and the men looked up in time to see Alex appear freshly washed and wearing her clean clothes. To simply say her appearance was improved by a quick bath and a feminine set of clothing would have done the young woman a great dishonor. What they saw gracefully gliding across the room was a completely different person from the ruffian who had made their acquaintance not an hour before. Transformed, was the first word that came to Wyatt's mind, as if she had been a caterpillar that had just shed its cocoon to emerge as a newly birthed butterfly. The contrast was that startling.

Dressed in a blue gingham frock with modest collar and long sleeves, she could never be mistaken for a saloon whore. She looked too wholesome and pure, which ironically was just as inviting as if she had been draped in a low cut red-velvet gown. Alexis looked every bit like the girl next door, or in truth, like the girl many a man left behind when he came west to earn his fortune. Good, clean-cut women were scarce in the west, leaving available only the soiled doves to satisfy a love-craved man. Wyatt and his two brothers were fortunate enough to have rescued their wives from the trade before life wore them down, and before any other man could come along to spirit them away as well. Looking at Alex as she timidly approached the table Wyatt couldn't help but daydream. _She could earn a three hundred a month,_ _easily,_ he thought, _dressed just as she is._

Her long hair, still wet from her bath, was gently pulled back from her face and fastened into a loose braid that fell midway down her back. Skin, which had been caked in soot, was washed clean and shown with the color and constancy of buttermilk – pale, smooth, and flawless. Her figure, which had been previously masked by the loose fitting clothing, giving her a bulkier shape, was much smaller now that she was dressed in clothing that fit, showing off her small waist and nicely rounded breasts.

To his left, Wyatt heard his brothers and Doc shuffle uncomfortably. He turned to meet Doc's eyes, which danced with concealed laughter. Again, the gambler intercepted his secret thoughts and gave Wyatt a subtle shake of his head, letting him know he also saw the entertainment value if Alex were to take up the trade, but that the idea was entirely out of the question.

As she neared the table, Wyatt was not surprised when Doc was the first to rise to his feet to greet her.

"Miss Montgomery, you are a vision." The gambler proclaimed while stepping away from the table to stand in front of Alex. In a territorial maneuver, he positioned his body between the table and Alex effectively shielding her from the other men's view. Oozing Southern charm, he gently took her hand and brushed his lips against the top of her fingers.

Fascinated by this old-world greeting, Alex stood transfixed, wondering what the customary feminine response should be. "Thank you Mr. Holliday." She stammered, deciding to keep things simple. The sensation of his mouth against her skin had sent electric shocks shooting up her spine, an unexpected pleasure she was not prepared to handle. "I'm sure I smell a lot better, too." She joked; hoping humor would keep the mood light and uncomplicated.

Her quirky sense of wit took Doc by surprise, but when she bestowed one of her winning smiles on him he suddenly felt the room tilt, and the odd pulse of energy he experienced earlier was back, slamming into his stomach with more force this time. Realizing he was staring at her like a love-struck youth, he struggled to blink away the sensation, comprehending for the first time that this girl had caused his carefree, self-serving world to slip beyond his control. "Nonsense, I've yet to meet a woman who made a more charming gutter snipe."

A small part of Alex's consciousness was secretly pleased to be greeting the gambler fresh from her bath and dressed as a woman rather than a filthy child. The gown she wore, although plain in make and fashion, fit her well, enhancing every curve and feminine slope. The warm light of male admiration in Doc's eyes pleased her more than she wanted to admit and the subtle tremble she felt coursing through his warm smooth fingers gave her the courage to meet his gaze with an air of pride.

He held her hand a little longer then was proper before he released her, and Alex couldn't help but notice the subtle caress of his finger as it slid tenderly across her palm. _Better watch it girl_,she thought to herself, _this is Southern seduction at its finest_.

"Allie's dress seems like a good fit." Virgil noted while slanting a sly look at Wyatt as a warning to keep his dirty thoughts to himself.

Alex looked down while brushing her palm across the front of the dress. "A few inches shorter than fashion allows perhaps. I must be somewhat taller than your wife, but all in all it is an excellent fit and I am grateful. Please tell Mrs. Earp I said thank you."

When she turned to answer the full impact of her feminine features made the burly lawman swallow uncomfortably. "Uh…I'll do that, ma'am. Why don't you sit for a spell? Do you want some coffee?"

"Thank you, no. I believe I'll get the items I need to cook dinner."

"I walk part way with you then and show you where the store is. I have a few errands to run myself." Morgan offered. "I can help you carry your parcels." He slipped his hand under her elbow and prepared to lead her out the door.

"That's very kind of you, Morgan." Taking his arm, she glanced quickly around the table. "Shall we say dinner at seven o'clock, gentlemen?"

As the two passed out of site, Virgil asked, "Do you think she'll run off with the grocery money?"

"Nah, I doubt it, Virg." Wyatt replied, "I think we can trust her. Besides, Morgan will keep an eye on her."

"Well then," Doc crooned before swallowing the rest of his whiskey. "I think I shall retire for the afternoon and return in time to see our little cook's evening performance." Doc stood and tipped his hat to his friends before strolling out the door. Seconds later, Wyatt noted with irritation that Doc had taken the bottle of whiskey with him.

* * *

Intriguing smells drifted through the Oriental making a few of the patron's bellies rumble with the thoughts of food. The saloon was mildly busy, keeping Milt active behind the bar. Wyatt, who had just returned moments ago, stood at the bar quietly talking to Milt as he worked.

"Any problems, Milt?"

"No, Wyatt. She came back after about an hour and has been in the kitchen ever since. Only spent a few dollars of the money I gave her and brought back the change."

"Well, whatever she's cooking sure smells good."

Milt smiled in agreement. In the last twenty minutes he had a half a dozen people ask him who was cooking and if they could buy a plate full. He hated to turn away good money, but he wanted to see what Wyatt and his brothers thought first before he made any announcements about serving dinner.

When Virgil, Morgan and Doc arrived, Wyatt noted the distinct absence of Kate from gambler's side and he wondered if his friend had secretly arranged it. He shifted to the right to make room for the three men at the bar while signally to Milt to pour a fresh round of drinks.

"Good evening, gentlemen." Doc called, greeting Milt and Wyatt with a slight tip of his hat. Taking the amber filled glass Milt offered him he proceeded to take a deep drink.

"Well, Wyatt," Virgil began with an air of sarcasm, "I hope you don't have your hopes up and your appetite peaked. This meal she's preparing could turn out to be a damn bust."

"Smells good enough." Morgan defended.

"Humph!" He replied while taking sip of his drink. "Allie said she'd keep dinner warm for me just in case. The rest of you will have to fend for yourselves."

Turning away from his brother's sour attitude, Wyatt prepared to cross verbal swords with the plucky gambler. "You've, uh… seem to have forgotten something Doc?" He quietly prodded.

"Pardon?" Doc replied in a dry tone that was often a sign of his approaching anger.

Unfazed by the warning, Wyatt continued with a smile and a few well-chosen words. "Or, perhaps you purposely left her at the hotel? Now, I wonder why?"

Doc narrowed his eyes and leaned in. "Do you know what they say about cats, Wyatt? Apparently, they are highly allergic to curiosity. You see it kills them every time." He coughed twice before he continued, "I'm told nosey lawman have the same affliction."

Wyatt laughed off Doc's mild threat and jerked his chin toward the back of the saloon. "Oh, here's Alex. It looks like dinner is served."

Alexis' sudden entrance interrupted Doc's rising temper. Before he could help himself, he looked eagerly across the saloon until his eyes met hers. Perhaps it was masculine pride, but it seemed she looked only at him and no other. For an endless moment he held her gaze, looking away only when he noticed Wyatt's growing smirk as he hovered nearby.

Perturbed that stoic lawman was watching him with interest, Doc struggled to suppress his excitement by downing the rest of his whiskey. He never liked it when his inner emotions floated to the surface. Feelings of love, passion and friendship were often viewed as weakness in the west. As a form of defense, detachment was a mask he wore plastered firmly over his face, but Wyatt's close personal relationship often allowed the lawman the ability to see the mechanisms of his inner psyche. Still, any friendly comment would be unwelcome right now, especially teasing.

Raising one eyebrow in silent warning, he gave Wyatt a sarcastic bow gesturing for him to lead the way to the dinning table. As he brought up the rear, Doc took particular pleasure watching Alex glide gracefully across the floor. Again, the flash of familiarity in her posture had him searching for something just beyond his consciousness. What was it about the way she moved that seemed out of place in the rough atmosphere of the saloon?

She led them to a corner table near the back of the room, which she had preset for their dinner, and motioned for them to sit, before floating back into the kitchen to fetch their meal. As Doc took his customary seat with his back against the wall and a full view of the room, he admired the table setting with its white tablecloth, napkins, clean china, and correct placement of silverware. "If she knows how to set a table then she would also know how to eat at one." He voiced aloud.

"What's that, Doc?" Wyatt asked.

Doc picked up the first of two forks placed on his left. Flashing the polished silver at his friend he explained. "Judging from the elegant way she set this table, I would bet my entire faro bank that our little cook has dined at a formal table more than she'd like to admit."

"Are you saying she's from society?"

_Society?_ The word was like a bell ringing soundly in his head. "Of course…" he muttered while shaking his head, "how addlebrained I've become." Fixing bright blue eyes on his friend he continued, "The way she walks, talks, sits, drinks coffee and set this table… Wyatt, this girl is no common runaway, I would wager she's been born and raised in society; high society to boot."

Wyatt shrugged, "What of it? A lot of young girls run away from home, Doc."

"Agreed. But young society girls are also mentioned in the newspaper when they go missing."

"Then we could look for clues to her family…" Virgil began before Milt shushed him loudly while nodding toward the kitchen.

Moments later Alex breached the doorway carrying several covered dishes on a large tray. With the minimal about of flourish she uncovered the meal, placing a hot plate of food in front of each man.

Truthfully, Wyatt had no idea what to expect. He figured she would cook the usual dinner of fried steak and mashed potatoes. However, after looking down at his plate he had no idea what she had prepared.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Alex guessed their dilemma. "Its veal cutlets in a cream sauce topped with mushrooms. I made peas with carrots, and fried potato wedges seasoned with parley. Oh, and there's apple pie for dessert. Milt, would you happen to have a nice bottle of wine?"

"Yes, ma'am, I believe I do." He jumped up to run to the bar and returned in a minute with a dusty bottle. "Not too many folks drink wine in Tombstone, Miss Alex. I've been saving this for a special occasion." He opened the bottle with ease and poured a generous amount in each glass.

"Well, there it is…. Bon appétit, gentlemen." Eagerly, she watched from a distance while the men hesitantly tasted their meal. After the first mouthful and agreeable glances at their companions, she could tell they greatly enjoyed what she had prepared.

Several minute passed in silence, Morgan was the first to comment. "This is absolutely delicious. I don't think I've ever had anything that tasted this good."

"I agree." Doc concurred. "It is very good. Wherever did you learn to make it?"

_Where did I learn to make it?_ She should have known the dentist would want to conduct an interview rather than just eat the meal. "Forgive me, Mr. Holliday, but I left my resume at home." Alex replied sincerely – a little too sincerely and then she watched as Doc cocked one eyebrow at her sarcasm and waited for the answer to his question.

"In Paris." She finally replied, hoping that would be the end of his questions.

"Paris, Missouri?" Virgil pushed, making Alex roll her eyes with irritation.

"No," she replied quickly, giving the elder Earp a small, tight smile, "I acquired the recipe from a cooking class in Paris, France."

Just mentioning Europe was enough to send the Earp brothers and Milt into an uncomfortable silence, but Doc was merely intrigued, although his eyes narrowed with suspicion. "You learned to cook in France?"

"My family thought I should study aboard." Alex countered while wondering how the dentist would verify her claim.

"_Vous devez être une femme instruite?" _He quickly asked her in flawless French, fully expecting her to fumble over her obvious lie. _Well, this is it,_ he thought, _time for my enchantment to come to an end._

His abrupt conversion from English to French caught Alex completely off guard. She was aware that history books had mentioned Doc Holliday's educated background in Greek and Latin, but his being well versed in the French language she couldn't recall ever reading about. While she racked her brain over all the details she could call to mind about the dentist's earlier education, he misjudged her delayed response as bewilderment. Gradually, a cocky gleam grew in his eyes with each passing second. After another moment of internalized thought, Alexis was shocked to realize her brief hesitation was egging on his confidence. _He's testing me,_ she realized, _and the son-of-a-bitch fully believes I don't have a clue what he just said._ Before responding she leveled him with a cool confident smile and felt the thrill of victory as she watched the self-assured gleam in his eyes waver ever so slightly.

"_Oui. J'ai été chanceux pour avoir reçu une bonne éducation__."_She replied easily, letting the proper inflection roll off her tongue while meeting his challenge with a slight rise of her chin.

A silent thrill raced up Doc's spine at each crisp French syllable she uttered. _Good God, she's telling the truth._ The thought alone was enough to raise a broad smile to his face before finally laughing outright at her audacity. "It appears Miss Montgomery has an extensive education, my friends. Not only can she manhandle three lawmen, but she can also cook like an angel, and speak French like a queen. Mademoiselle, I salute you." With a gleam of admiration glowing in his eyes he slowly toasted her with his wine glass before taking a sip.

Experience had taught Alex that men don't like being proved wrong, especially in front of their friends, but instead of appearing disappointed or angry Doc surprised her by laughing at her spunk. Thrown off balance by his response, she was beginning to feel like the object of some secret joke. Immediately, her temper skyrocketed, but before she could snap back a reply she was interrupted by the appearance of one of the saloon's customers.

The small brown figure hovered on her left, prompting her to divert her attention away from the gambler's cocky grin. "Ma'am, would it be possible to order a plate of what they're eating? It looks mighty good."

The middle-aged miner was dusty from head to toe, looked and smelled like he hadn't had a bath in months, and seemed more out of place in the saloon atmosphere then she did, but Alex presented him with her best smile and led him to a table where she would bring his meal.

Jumping up from his seat Milt was quick to intervene, but Alex stopped him with a gentle motion of her hand. "I anticipated this Milt and made extra." She told him quietly. "How much do you want to charge –thirty cents a meal?"

Relief flooded the bartender's face as he sank back down into his chair, and with a smile of gratitude concurred, "That sounds about right."

"So, does this mean I have a job?" She whispered with a hopeful glimmer in her eyes.

"Absolutely." Milt agreed.

"Good. Excellent." She smiled at the men but made the mistake of letting her eyes linger a moment too long on Doc who acknowledged her with a wink, and then quickly covered his mouth with his napkin to stifle a series of coughs. Afterwards he proceeded to roll a smoke. She wanted to lecture him on the damage smoking would do to his lungs but realized it wouldn't matter how much he smoked, his lungs were already damaged beyond repair. Besides, it her job was to complete her mission and to do her best to not interfere with the timeline. _Best to ignore the dentist and his degraded habits_, she silently pledged, _or you'll get into trouble. _Little did she know how hard an undertaking that would be.

"Shall I bring out coffee with your dessert, gentlemen?" She asked as she kept her eyes lowered and began to clear the table of their empty plates.

"Sure Alex. Thanks." Wyatt said while using his napkin to wipe his mustache clean.

"Would this be French apple pie?" Doc asked with a smirk.

"Would you know the difference if it wasn't, Mr. Holliday?" She replied dryly, hoping his lack of European experience would put him at a disadvantage.

"No, I suppose not," he freely admitted without missing a beat, "but I'm willing to learn, Miss Montgomery." He gave her another smooth smile, slid his cigarette between his teeth and struck a match. With patience born from cockiness, he leaned back into his chair and waited for her response.

Was he testing her _again_? Her irritation rose to the surface as she paused from retrieving another empty plate to give him her full attention. _No,_ she judged while studying the mocking expression on his face. _This was more than a test._ "I'm afraid I am not that good of a teacher, Mr. Holliday." She shot back, wondering how he would respond to her camouflaged insult.

In a flash of a second his features altered from mocking to one of amusement, as a warm light began to seep into his blue eyes. It was then that her situation became quite clear. _Good God, the man is flirting with me. _She paused and leaned back away from the table to get a better look at his face. Doc Holliday, one of the West's most famous desperadoes, was actually showering her with adult innuendoes that could only be coined as old world charm. It was flattering, really. A warm flush of feminine pride made her skin feel hot, and try as she might to maintain a stoic composure, a silly schoolgirl grin sprung to her lips anyway. Now that she thought about it the situation really was amusing. There she was, one hundred and twenty-one years outside of her time, working undercover as the new cook for one of the most popular saloons in Tombstone, standing in front of four of the most notorious lawmen that had ever lived with her arms overflowing with dirty dishes, and she was playing verbal volleyball with Doc Holliday. The entire scenario might have been a fever-born dream, but her imagination had never been this twisted.

Doc watched a pink glow spread across Alex's face and felt the first ache of longing settle painfully in his groin. "I am perfectly capable of making up my own mind on that subject, Miss Montgomery. When you are ready to give cooking lessons, you will find me an apt pupil."

John Henry Holliday was thoroughly enjoying himself. When was the last time he made a woman blush? _It certainly wasn't Kate, that's for damn sure._ He inhaled deeply on his cigarette as he silently appraised the woman before him. It had been too long since he had encountered a female who embodied beauty, brains and brass. Alexis was not easily intimidated and for that he was glad, but he wondered how much further he could play this game, and if she would call his bluff, or back down first.

Alex raised one elegant eyebrow at him, and somehow managed to stifle her humor. "Your analogies are showing, Mr. Holliday. Have a care."

Her tort reply only encouraged him further. "My apologies, Miss Montgomery. I'm afraid I am out of practice."

When he smiled at her – a bright beautiful smile – Alex began to see why this man had intrigued historians for one hundred and twenty-one years. At that precise moment he seemed out of place in the dust-ridden frontier town. She could clearly envision the genteel Southerner he would have been had it not been for the Civil War. How beautiful he would be riding his horse in the afternoon sun, across a field of cotton, playing landowner and master to the black slaves that had once been the backbone of every Southern plantation, a world that no longer existed except in his memory and in his family's history. The War Between the States had been standard textbook history during Alex's school years, but the reality of that era never meant much to her. For the very first time she realized how much loss the South had experienced. A world, a way of life, was literally wipe off the face of the earth, and it made her sad to associate that gaping wound with the handsome blonde dentist sitting before her.

Morgan's childish giggle stirred her from her thoughts. Glancing quickly at Milt and the other two Earps, she saw that they also seemed to be enjoying the game Doc was playing with her. Shaking off gloom from her dark thoughts, she returned their smiles with one of her own, and picked up the last dirty dish from the table as she prepared her parting reply. "Out of practice, Mr. Holliday? No, I think you are not. You have just been lax in sharpening your Southern charms. But do not despair; I believe you are quickly regaining your edge."

He placed a gentle hand against his chest and bowed ever so slightly. "Thank you, Miss Montgomery," he replied with the utmost sincerity, warmed by her words of appreciation. "I am much relieved."

She shook her head at his wit, presented him with another smile, and walked quickly into the kitchen.

The armload of dirty dishes she piled into the sink where they merged with the dirty pots and pans she had used to cook dinner. Thankfully, the Oriental had an indoor water pump connected to the sink. All she needed to do was heat the water to wash the dishes. It sounded simple enough, but not so easily accomplished. She looked about at the terrific mess she had made to create this special meal. If she were going to continue with this deception she would need to brush up on her cooking and cleaning skills.

With a heavy sign, she brushed a lock of lose hair from her face as she prepared a plate for her first customer. God, she longed to have a moment to herself where she could think what to do next. Since fallings from the time portal she had been running from one situation to the next with very little opportunity to collect her thoughts. The funny thing was, this was not the first time she had been to Tombstone. Not that long ago she played the tourist as she traveled through Arizona with her husband, where she had enjoyed learning about the big gunfight at the OK Corral, the Earp brothers and especially the famous Doc Holliday, who at that time had seemed like a sad and tragic figure, and not the charismatic and sensual man she had just served dinner to. But Tombstone of eighteen eighty-one was a far cry from Tombstone in the twenty-first century. For one thing it smelled. It was a dirty, dusty, smelly town, where every man looked like a dangerous stand-in for the movie, "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly".

The portal had deposited Alex in a rock ravine on the outskirts of town. She must have been unconscious for several hours; when she woke she was alone. No Angel. Disappointed he had not followed; Alex was determined to stick to procedure, which was to make contact with the nearest Catholic Church. The parish priest, Father Patrick Martin, was most helpful. The only verification he needed to see were the symbols tattooed on the underside of both of her forearms – the mark of her order. The design was comprised of a circle of thorns, slightly larger then a quarter, intertwined with roses and at the center was a cross. It was that symbol that proclaimed her as a Guardian, a soldier of the Catholic Church. Aware of her true identity, anything she required the priest would give to her with no questions asked.

Actually, Father Martin considered her arrival as a sign from God. Apparently, several unexplained deaths of late had shaken several of his parishioners who were now convinced evil had come to Tombstone. And so it had, she thought. Malachi hadn't wasted any time wreaking havoc.

Over tea and a loaf of bread with cheese, she told the priest everything: her history and pursuit of Malachi, traveling through time, everything. She also warned him to be on the look out for Angel who would undoubtedly come to the church looking for her. If the holy man had any reservations about her story he kept it to himself. His composure was so steady it was as if time traveling women came to his church daily. Either he had complete faith in the mysterious workings of the heavens, or he was a very good poker player. Either way, it felt good to finally confess her doubts and fears to the church. Midway through her confession she openly sobbed, stunned that after thirteen-long months her grief could still be so fresh, so painful. It had been too long, much too long since she had purged herself. When her tale was finished she was amazed at how much better she felt. The guilt and heartache she had been carrying in the pit of her soul was for the moment at rest. It seemed, for the first time since her husband, Malachi, had been turned into a vampire, she was finding the strength to carryout her mission to kill him.

It had been Father Martin's idea to dress her as a boy, as was his suggestion to seek out the Earp brothers at their saloon. Together, they took an old shirt and pants and soiled them with ashes from the fireplace, which, the priest said, would give her appearance a direr look and harder to ignore. If she could find a way to stay close to the lawmen, she was likely to overhear something that would lead her to Malachi's whereabouts. The trick would be to gain the men's assistance and trust and to do that Father Martin needed to place the Earps in the position where they felt they had no choice but to help her – hence the damsel in distress ploy.

The theft of her bag was a badly composed story, she knew, but the end result was what mattered. For the time being she was settled in the hottest spot in Tombstone. Now all she had to do was keep her eyes open and stay alert. Angel was bound to find her eventually, and when he did they would be able to clean up this town of all its hidden evil. Until then she would take them out one at a time. It was that simple.

Shaking her head to clear her busy thoughts she quickly finished serving her customers. Several other hungry men quickly ordered dinner and before she knew it her veal cutlets and apple pie were gone.

After she had cleaned up the kitchen and washed the dirty dishes, she joined Wyatt and the others who were involved in a poker game. As usual, Doc was in charge. Milt had brought her a glass of good sherry so she decided to relax and watch the card game for a while, feeling she had earned a moment's rest.

"Do you play cards, Alexis?" Doc inquired as he kept his eyes on the game.

_Did she play cards?_ For just a split second the question had taken her by surprise. But how stupid could she be? Of course, Doc Holliday would want to know if he could engage her in poker or at the faro table. She wondered if this was his way of taking his flirting to the next level. _First, he'll test you with verbal volleyball, then he'll kick your ass at poker, and finally he'll try to get you in bed. _Alex decided she would not be that easily conquered. She had a mission to accomplish while in Tombstone and to do that she would need to stay focused. With a hint of humor in her voice that was intended to tease him and at the same time avoid giving him a direct answer, she replied, "I was told respectable ladies don't gamble, Mr. Holliday."

There was a particular tone in her jest that made him raise his eyes from the game to look at her. Immediately, his breath hitched in his throat as he was drawn in, held captive by her sharp-green eyes that studied him with interest, and yet danced with barely controlled humor. Eager to take part in her amusement, he continued to match her scrutinizing gaze; the cards he held in his hand temporarily forgotten.

The first thing he noted was her altered composure, which in the beginning of the night had been stiff with anger and unease had finally relaxed, giving her a softer, friendlier appearance. Her expression was so inviting that visions and scenarios immediately formed in his imagination of the numerous encounters he might share with her if given the chance.

In his mind's eye he was stepping away from the card game, reaching for her hand to lead her to a dark corner in the saloon where he would spend hours talking, touching, flirting, and maybe kissing her. All as a prelude to the final act of seduction, which would take place in a secluded hotel room on the other side of town, hidden from Kate, Wyatt and Virgil's prying eyes. There he would slowly disrobe her, stretch her long limbs across the bed, stroke her until she moaned and arched under his hands, only then would he pin her to the bed and claim her.

With effort he suppressed his fantasy as he continued to let his eyes wander freely over her figure. An evening of cooking and cleaning had taken its toll on her physically. Even though her appearance was hardly seductive, he was charmed, enthralled, and anxious to learn everything about her. He longed to uncover all her secrets as he slowly stripped her bare of her common laymen's clothing.

The freshly ironed dress that Allie had lent Alex was now riddled with wrinkles. The white cloth apron, which was still tied securely around her waist, was covered in stains. Normally, a woman wearing soiled work clothing would never have interest him, but for some reason Alex's dirty clothing only added to her appeal. Still, the one aspect of her appearance that could never be a deterrent, whether dirty or clean was her blonde hair. The braid was coming unbound, leaving loose tresses floating around her face and neck. He knew it would take nothing at all to release the remaining mass of blonde curls. One small tug on the tie that held her hair together and he would be free to spend the next hour exploring the silky texture and the fresh clean smell, willingly combing his fingers through the mass of waves, starting at her scalp and not stopping until his hands emerged at the ends that would fall over her shoulders to brush across her nipples. God, what he wouldn't give to taste her. To pull her hard-pebbled breast into his mouth and suck. To rub the tip of his tongue across the peak, wait until she moaned before he would bear down ever so gently with his teeth. His desire was so strong, so swift to take him over that he could almost feel the smooth texture of her flesh under his hands.

With a start, he realized he was hallucinating again, fresher and stronger than before. _What the fuck is the matter with me?_ He thought.

Perplexed by Doc's lingering look, Alex watched his expression shift as his eyes slowly dilated, the light blue depths of his irises darken and the rising passion he was feeling became obvious. She knew without doubt what he was thinking, and instead of being appalled by his blatant sexuality, she was spellbound, pulled into the fantasy with him. Captivated by his intensity, she stared back; her heart suddenly picked up pace; a warm flush launched across her chest, slid downward into her stomach to finally melt between her legs and burn her. _Oh. My. God,_ she thought. _This can't be happening._

Her body's reaction might have been shocking, but Alex quickly contributed her feelings to her yearlong stretch of celibacy. She was horny, and that was all. But instead of looking away and ignoring the moment, which would have been the smart thing to do, she made matters worse by saluting him with her glass and taking a slow-sensual sip of the sherry. The dark red liquor tasted too good, too sexual, in her mouth. She rolled her tongue around the liquid, allowing her taste buds to drown in the flavor, and fleetingly she wished she could lean in, place her lips against his and share the experience with him by spilling drops into his mouth right before he would kiss her. It would become a game – a long stimulating game – where she would feed him, nourish him for hours, and he would repay her with kisses.

Try as he might to break free, Doc's fantasy wouldn't release him. Watching her mouth the sherry only made it harder for him to return his focus to the card game. His dream expanded, deepened, stretched beyond the boundaries of what he could ever wish for. His mind returned to Alex naked and draped across his bed. Those glorious legs wrapped around his hips as his hands traveled over skin flushed with passion, breast heaving and pointing upward, her hair in wild disarray over the pillows of his bed, and that cat-like-gaze fixed intently on his face. Unable to help himself, his body reacted, hardened; a sharp ache of pleasure deep in his groin made him shift in his chair and he knew then he was in deep trouble.

Silently, and with dogged determination, he began to calculate how and when he could seduce the Oriental's new cook.

"Hot damn, I won." Shouted the customer playing opposite of Doc Holliday, but the distracted dentist hardly seem to notice.

Sitting next to his friend, Wyatt had witnessed the silent exchange between Doc and Alexis. It wouldn't take a philosopher to figure out the level of attraction that had just passed between the gambler and the new cook. Still, he wondered, and not for the last time, what the outcome might be if the lovers should declare themselves. Leaning in closer to the dazed dentist, he quietly teased, "Doc, I think you're slipping."

"No, Wyatt, my friend," he whispered back, with his eyes still fixated on Alex, "I have fallen, harder than angels have fallen, and may God have mercy on my soul."

After watching Doc stumble through several bad hands of cards, Alex excused herself from her new friends saying she had a long day and was tired. When she finally was alone in her new quarters she lit a small candle and locked the door.

The room was relatively a simple one. She had a small cot with a home made patched quilt. The bedding seemed clean and bug free, for which she said a small prayer of thanks. There was a wooden chest that stood at the end of the bed and along one wall was a small table with two chairs. Against the opposite wall was her bathing tub constructed out of copper, crude and simple but definitely useable. Next to it was a small wood stove, which would keep her room nice and warm during the cold Arizona nights.

The only source of light she would have for her room came from several candles and two oil lamps Milt had given her. Even with all the candles and oil lamps lit, the lighting in the room would be dim at best. Lack of electricity was currently a drawback for humans. Even after years of patrolling and slaying in the darkest of places, Alex still had trouble maneuvering at night. She craved sunlight, hundred-watt light bulbs and sparkling white crystal chandeliers that would illuminate even the largest of rooms.

Vampires, on the other hand, loved candlelight. It masked the pasty pallor of their skin, giving them the appearance of life, making it easier for them to roam freely among the living. Dark shadowy corners and alleyways were a vampire's best friend, and unfortunately, Tombstone had an overabundance of dimly lit saloons for the undead to hunt in.

She sighed loudly, more from frustration at her current circumstance then fatigue as she finished inspecting her new domain. Rising, she crossed the small room in just six strides to peek out the only window. Hoping to have a primo view of the street, she chuckled softly when she looked down on to the dirty alley below.

_Okay, so you're not rooming at the Ritz,_ she thought, _and you won't get to observe nineteenth century civilization from the comfort of your room_. Still, the alley did have one very huge perk – her coming and going from the saloon would not be obvious to the patrons, and most particularly, three suspicious brothers and one sure to be nosey dentist.

Drawing the cotton curtains closed, she turned away from the window, counted to six again as she crossed the room, and sat on the bed to collect her thoughts. But try as she might to focus on patrolling, her mind kept wandering over the day's events and the strange tingling feeling in the pit of her stomach whenever she reflected on the tragic dentist and his medical condition. It was obvious to her he was very ill, yet he didn't seem to care. He drank like a fish and smoked excessively. She could only surmise that historians had pegged his personality well when they said Doc Holliday had a death wish, but who could blame him. In a time when even aspirin wasn't invented, tuberculosis had to be a terrible way to die, and yet he didn't seem to care that his habits were probably hastening his death. And wasn't he supposed to be brilliant at cards? Yet, she had just watched him lose several hands in a row.

What a peculiar man he was. Open and charming to a degree, he could make the most awkward teenage girl comfortable, and yet the cold way he often smiled and the sharp gleam in his baby-blue eyes had a way of maintaining a reserved buffer of air around him. There was no doubt in her mind that very few people were intimately acquainted with the gambler. From her observations this evening, she surmised Wyatt might be part of Doc Holliday's inner circle.

But what of Kate Elder, also known as "Big Nose Kate". Was she privileged to know the real John Henry Holliday? Was she a favorite lover and companion, or something less valuable? The famous whore had yet to make an appearance. Alex had been expecting her to accompany Doc to dinner this evening, and even though she was curious enough to want to meet the only woman in the gambler's life, she was also glad that Doc had arrived alone.

A sudden memory of hooded blue eyes and the intense way he had stared at her this evening made Alex's pulse jump. If she had been looking in a mirror at that precise moment she would have seen the slow seductive smile spring to her lips.

_No, no, no! You can't touch him, not even with a ten-foot pole. _

_Why not? _Her indignant inner voice spat back.

_Because, stupid, you're on a mission, remember? _

Mentally shaking off her fantasy, she reminded herself that the evening was quickly wasting away. There was no time in her agenda to reflect on tragic historical figures, particularly, charming Southern ones.

Alex checked the lock on the door one more time before she walked to the window and raised the sash. Glancing first to the left and then toward the right, she noticed a copper drain gutter that ran down the length of the building to feed a rain barrel below. Alex eyeballed the distance to the ground and guessed it to be no more than twenty-five feet. It would be nothing for her to swing out the window and use the pipe to climb to the ground. Getting back to her room would be just as easy.

Sticking to the shadows, she quickly made her way to the church to retrieve her weapon bag, a change of clothes and a few provision from Father Martin. The rest of her evening would be spent patrolling.

Wyatt cautiously watched Alex walk to the kitchen and close the door behind her. Once she was out of sight he turned to Morgan. "Did you go to the hotel like we talked about?"

The youngest Earp sighed loudly over the negative report he had to give to his brother. Feeling more like a tattletale then a lawman, Morgan gave Wyatt a slight nod of his head. "Yeah. You were right to be suspicious, Wyatt. They had no record of Alex or her two companions."

The small measure of satisfaction Wyatt felt at being correct in his assumptions did very little to cheer his sullen mood. "I figured. I got the same story from the telegraph office."

Turning toward the gambler, Wyatt prepared to test the churning waters that traveled just below the dentist's calm exterior. "Well, Doc what do you think of our little cook now? Could she be a high society girl hiding from her parents? Or perhaps a darker ploy motivates her?"

Doc glanced away from the card game to give Wyatt his full attention. The bright-eyed, open expression he wore took Wyatt by surprise. "She is a woman of mystery, my friend. I find I am even more intrigued." He doubled the lawman's confusion by smirking before reaching for his glass of whiskey and swallowing the contents.

A soft growl from Virgil interrupted any comment Wyatt might have had. Narrowing his eyes at Doc, he leaned forward in his chair, placing both elbows firmly on the table. "Well, I hate mysteries, and this is one I intend to fully investigate." With an outstretched palm, he stopped the dentist before he could reply. "Look, I can see you are intrigued, Doc, but as sheriff of this town, I have a job to do. If she's involved in something, whether it's running from trouble or running towards it, it's my job to make sure the citizens of this town are kept safe."

Virgil's by-the-book attitude was just irritating enough to tick Doc off, but the rush of temper he felt was more than just plain annoyance. In the next several days, and hopefully for longer, he intended to learn as much as he could about Alexis Montgomery and the true reason she came to Tombstone. The surly lawman and his suspicious nature were a threat to his plans. "Tell me, Sheriff, do you think she'll commit rape first, or will it be pillaging, or even a burning perhaps?"

"Doc, that's not what Virg meant." Wyatt interrupted. "He's just trying to make sure Alex is safe and do his job at the same time."

Scowling darkly at his friend he snapped, "I am able to comprehend, Wyatt, thank you very much. I don't need an interpreter." Quickly, he covered his mouth with his handkerchief to stifle series of coughs, causing the pain in his lungs to progress from a dull throb to a stabbing thrust.

"Ah, hell." Virgil grumbled under his breath.

"Let me ease your mind and your responsibility, Virgil." Doc poured himself another shot of whiskey and easily tossed it down his throat. He coughed again, wincing slightly as another bolt of pain shot through his chest. "I will look after Miss Montgomery, and see that she comes to no harm, and thus, making sure she comments no transgressions while residing within your jurisdiction. Would that be acceptable, sheriff?"

"This is no game, Doc." Virgil snapped back.

"I'm not playing, Virgil. I'm deadly serious." Doc replied with a cool unblinking gaze.

"But why would you want to get involved?" Virgil asked. "Isn't Kate keeping you busy enough?"

"Let's just say that Kate is keeping herself busy and several other gentlemen of the town as well, which, I might add, is the reason for her absence tonight." He shot Wyatt a smug look before turning back to Virgil. "I grow tired of her games." He took another drink, finally easing the pain in his chest somewhat.

"Don't worry, Virgil. My intentions are entirely honorable. I mean Miss Montgomery no harm. I am just looking for more genteel company that is all."

"Fine, Doc. Have it your way. But I will be keeping my eyes open for any clues to the real reason she finagled her way into this saloon today, savvy?"

"Savvy." Doc replied as he clicked his glass against Virgil's to seal their deal.

"I'm glad you two can finally come to an understanding, but there is just one small detail that weighs heavily on my mind." Wyatt replied in a sarcastic tone. "If she lied about the hotel and the telegram, does this mean no one is coming to fetch her home?"

* * *

**French translation was taken from Babel Fish so please don't yell if I screwed it up.**

Doc: You must be an educated woman.

Alex: Yes. I was lucky to have received a good education.


	4. Cowboy vs Vampire

**CHAPTER 3 – COWBOY vs. VAMPIRE **_(revised)_

Dawn was a couple of hours away but the night sky was already beginning to shed its black skin to reveal the violet hue of morning. The crickets were still singing their night song, but now their melody was blending with the tune of the morning birds. Occasionally, those sounds were drowned by the laughter of men who occupied the many saloons.

_Twenty-four hours, seven days a week, _Alex thought as she stopped to gain her bearings. _Gambling. Drinking. Whoring._ _It was a man's playground_.

Dressed in the comfort of her twenty-first century clothing, her hair tucked up tight, she had spent the night walking the alleys and back streets of Tombstone, staying mainly off the main road so as to not be seen. The change in wardrobe was necessary not only for mobility – fighting in a dress being next to impossible – but also for ambiguity. Anyone who might have gotten a glimpse of her as she wandered through the town would have taken her for a man rather than a woman. Of course she knew in the next few days it would be necessary to obtain some decent male clothing. Showing off her modern leathers was just too risky.

It had been a good night for slaying. The air was neither too hot nor too cold, and thankfully the sky was clear, allowing the light from a half-moon to help illuminate her path. The dim lamplight from the town's homes and businesses was also beneficial. Fortunately, she hadn't lost her way exploring the dirty streets of the nineteenth-century town. But mapping her location would not be a bother after one or two more days. Always a quick study, she would have the town's layout memorized in no time. Patrolling always had a way of keeping her centered and focused. All thoughts and concerns about her new friends, particularly one tall-blonde gambler, and the slew of lies she had told them fell away from her consciousness. Only the 'here and now' remained. Her mind was crisp, clear, and for once turmoil free. If only all her days and nights were so emotionally calm, she would get so much more work done with less flip-flopping from heartache to heartache.

Alex heaved a loud sigh and brushed a loose strand of hair back off her face. She had killed two vamps that had the misfortune to cross her path and even though that fact was extremely satisfying, she was still very disappointed she had not seen Malachi. _Soon,_ she thought while resting her back against side of a building. _It must be soon. I can't take the strain much longer. _"I can't stand up much longer, either." She groaned aloud while reaching up to rub a sore spot in her shoulder. With a grunt of effort, she pushed away from the wall and stretched her arms into the air. The day had been long, and the night even longer. It was time to return to her new sleeping quarters for a few hours rest. She had only progressed a few yards when a strangled cry broke the tranquility of the morning air.

"Nooo… No, stay back." There was one gunshot and then two more in quick succession.

Alex turned and began to run in the direction the shots were fired when the screaming began. Shrieks of terror, a sound that was so familiar to her, and yet the howl could still cause the hair on the back of her neck to stand on edge.

"OH, GOD, HELP ME! HELP ME…"

It was a man's voice, and somehow that made the terrified cry all the more distressing. The sound originated from several yards ahead. Partially hidden in shadow, she could barely see him crawling backwards on the ground like a crab. Frightened beyond reason, he was no longer able to stand and run. Once again he raised his gun to fire at his attacker, but the weapon was easily ripped from his hand by the vampire who was thoroughly enjoying the moment.

As she approached, Alex could faintly make out the outline of the demon in the hazy lamplight, but she was able to see that he was dressed in cowboy gear with a long red sash tied around his waist. _Not Malachi!_ She cursed silently at her bad luck and began to move into position to make the kill. The victim had ceased his backward crawl and resorted to a stuttered recital of the Lord's Prayer in Latin. Hovering over him, the vamp uttered a low laugh as he closed in for the kill.

Quietly, Alex circled the building and approached the demon from behind. Holding her stake in her right hand she quickly reached for a handful of his hair with her left, pulled his neck and upper body backward while bringing her right arm around to the front of his chest to finish the motion with a downward thrust, sinking the stake deep into his heart. Stepping back quickly, she felt a rush of satisfaction as his body imploded into dust.

When the powder settled she looked for the man on the ground and found the terrified form of another sash-wearing cowboy. _Like western gang colors_, she thought. As Alex took in the victim's masculine features, she realized he was in a severe state of shock. Eyes the size of saucers stared forward but comprehended little. He had yet to realize he was no longer in danger. Over and over he stammered in Latin but had ceased to make sense. From what Alex could make out, he seemed to be repeating, I shall not want. I shall not want, over and over again. The pathetic weapon he had used in defense lay several yards away. Bullets had little or no affect on the undead. Quickly, she picked up the gun and slid it inside her pocket noting the metal was still warm from discharging. She would not return the pistol until he had regained some use of his wits. Judging from his current condition, he was likely to start shooting at anything that moved, and the last thing she needed right now was a gunshot wound.

Slowly, cautiously, she approached the frightened man, knelling down on the ground beside him. With one hand she reached for him, wanting only to offer him some comfort, but his body was strung as tight as a spring. She was afraid if she touched him he would lose any and all reason. Keeping her motions slow and calm, she lowered her hand and began to talk to him in a soothing voice. "Shhh, it's all right. You're safe now."

After a few moments, wide hazel eyes finally looked at her blinked twice and seemed to recover somewhat. "You!" He gasped. "You killed him. I mean… that thing…that demon. It was a demon wasn't it?

"Can you stand?" Without waiting for him to reply, she offered her hand and when he grabbed it she helped him to his feet. At first his legs refused to hold him upright, and he practically collapsed in Alex's arms. Weak from fright, the fine tremor running through his body was most likely the cause. She managed to steady him, until he found his footing, but his body continued to lean against her, drawing comfort from her strength.

"I fired at him." He told her, looking directly in her eyes. "I know I hit him twice, but it didn't stop him." He paused, and Alex got the impression he was waiting for her to answer, to explain the reason why bullets are useless against the undead. The fumes of recently consumed whiskey radiated from his body. If he had been drunk at the beginning of the encounter, he wasn't any longer. The shock of being attacked had literally scared him sober.

Glancing over her shoulder, he had noticed the pile of dust and was now fixated on it. A rush of Latin began again, Hail Mary this time. In one fluid motion he crossed himself and tried to back away. She halted his retreat with a firm grip on his jacket. "Are you hurt?" She asked, still keeping the tone of her voice soft and soothing as if she were talking to an injured animal. "Were you alone when you were attacked?"

No reply except another round of Hail Mary. Frustrated she snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Hello? Were you alone when you were attacked?"

The sharp tone of her question redirected his attention back to her. "Yes… I, uh. Yes, alone. I'm always alone."

"What's your name?" Alex asked, and watched with growing frustration as his features turned catatonic once more. "You do have a name, don't you?

"Ringo…. Jjh Jjh." He stammered."

Putting two and two together, Alex replied, "You're Johnny Ringo aren't you?" _Second in command of the notorious outlaws called the Cowboys_, she mused but kept this comment to herself.

Her quiet conversation seemed to calm him and he looked at her a little more coherently. "Yes." Then under his breath he mumbled, "Johnny Ringo." As if he needed to be certain. Suddenly he asked, "Who are you? How did you know how to kill it?"

Purposely ignoring his question she linked her arm with his she said, "Come with me, Mr. Ringo. I'll take you someplace where you will be safe."

Father Patrick Martin was less then pleased when she ushered the shocked and stammering outlaw through the doors of the church. Leaving Ringo kneeling by the altar, still badly shaken, the priest had pulled her to one side and was quietly trying to express his views. "It is not like I don't want to help, but…" he stopped to better phrase his thoughts. "This is a Godless man, Alexis. I do not know if the Holy Spirit will protect him here in this house, or any other place."

"This whole damn town is Godforsaken, Father." She replied while rubbing a weary hand over her eyes. "I know what I ask of you is difficult, but I couldn't just leave him on the street alone in his condition." She glanced over the priest's shoulder and watched as Ringo lit one candle after another while praying rather loudly in Latin the whole time. At his feet lay several dollars in silver coins. An obvious show of redemption, Alex surmised.

His eyes followed hers toward the front of the church. "I will see what I can do for him. We are all God's children."

"No, Patrick, not all of us." She replied sadly. "I do have one concern. Mr. Ringo has seen my face and if I am to maintain my cover you must try your best to keep him here so that he can't tell others who I really am."

It was a momentous request she knew. The priest faltered only slightly before meeting her eyes with a steady gaze and a slight nod to his head. "I will do what I can."

"Thank you." She sighed with obvious relief. "I will be more careful so that this does not happen again. I can't have all of Tombstone knowing who I am and why I'm really here."

"Perhaps a dark cloak and cowl would be the very thing." He walked to a series of pegs along one wall and removed a long black garment that hung there. "Wear this when you are out. Keep the hood up and your face will be hidden from all eyes."

"Thank you Father Martin. You have been more than helpful – you've been my savior. I don't know what I would do without you."

The monk made a small gesture to let her she needn't thank him. "Just be safe, Alexis. If something happens to you, then all is lost."

Together, they managed to coax the outlaw away from the altar and to a nearby pew. Father Martin had retrieved the money from the floor of the church and was now placing the contents in Ringo's hat.

Alexis slid into the pew beside the cowboy, placing a gentle hand on his arm to get his attention. Wide dilated eyes still so full of fear studied her face with something close to wonder. They were pretty hazel eyes, moist with emotion, surrounded by long soft lashes that would fall softly against tan skin. Tanned, no doubt from the many months of riding in the hot sun, homelessly roaming from one town to another. As Alex studied his face, she was surprised to find him handsome. It was a rugged kind of handsome that a three-day growth of beard enhanced, and skin covered in sweat, with a light coating of dust from a hard day's riding, was tempting enough to make you fantasize about kissing it clean. Hallowed cheekbones begged to be traced lightly with the tips of your fingers before skimming downward to touch full-soft lips protected by his heavy mustache. Light brown hair, straight as an arrow but baby soft and shinny, fell gently against his forehead. With effort Alex refrained from reaching up to test the texture. Johnny Ringo would have no trouble finding female companionship. If he played his cards well and was a considerate lover, his belly would always be full, his clothes mended and when the cold winter nights approached his bed would be warmed by soft-eager flesh.

Uncomfortable by the intensity of his gaze, she lowered her eyes to the level of his shoulder and cleared her throat. "You'll, be safe here, Mr. Ringo, and you can stay as long as you like. Father Martin will take good care of you. But do not walk around at night anymore. Once the sunsets you should stay inside. Do you understand?"

He nodded his head, and finally shifted his eyes away from her face and toward the hat he held in his hands. "It was a vampire wasn't it?"

Surprised that he knew the meaning of the word, she stammered for the right answer. Should she tell him the truth, or was a lie better for his peace of mind? Finally, "Yes," she admitted.

Again he stabbed her with his eyes. "You killed it."

It wasn't a question. Alex knew he was only seeking confirmation for his own mental health. "Yes."

"He was my friend." Ringo said softly.

She was shocked. No, floored was more like it. "You _knew_ him?"

Again the dazed cowboy nodded, sending his hair skirting across his brow. "His name was Frank Stillwell. He said he was told to come get me."

Glancing away, she considered this information for a moment. God help this town if what he said was true. A rush of adrenaline had her jumping to her feet. "Stay here." She reminded him again while giving his shoulder a gentle pat.

Before she could turn away, Ringo quickly grabbed her hand and held it tightly between rough callused fingers. "Will I see you again?"

"I suppose… Yes." His eyes still swam in fear. The grip he held on her hand trembled. Slipping her fingers free, she reached into her jacket. "Here, keep this with you at all times." In his hand she placed her rosary, strung with garnet and gold beads – a small fortune in the palm of an outlaw. "This was a gift from a very dear friend of mine. It will keep you safe."

He stared open-mouthed at the crucifix, eagerly kissed the gold cross, before kneeling to begin his prayer again.

Alex walked to the side door of the church and stopped to look back. Father Martin stood by Johnny Ringo's side and was gently patting his shoulder in comfort, while a rhythmic chant in Latin echoed within the stone chapel.

**Excerpts from Alex's Journal – September 1881 (Day 4) **

_I continue to work at the saloon during the early evening hours as a cook and afterwards I patrol. By the early morning hours I am exhausted. I have only killed 4 vampires since my arrival, three on the first night and one tonight. I am making no progress. The morning paper reported a family of 5 discovered dead in a tent on the edge of town. I suspect the demons are multiplying at an ever-increasing rate. I have still not uncovered Malachi's whereabouts. It's hard, but I'm trying to be patient as I wait for Angel to arrive and help me. _

_Note to self: There is a pattern to the identity of the undead but I am unsure of the purpose. The vampires I have killed were all outlaws and members of the Cowboy gang. Are these Malachi's recruits or are the cowboys simply turning their friends and cohorts? _


	5. Matchmaking

**CHAPTER 4 - MATCHMAKING **_(revised)_

The afternoon sky was the color of turquoise. The low humidity added crispness to the cotton puffs of clouds that floated carelessly across the crystal surface. Below the overhanging heavens, the landscape stretched on for miles still uninhibited by man, beauty that was so stunning it looked manufactured by a Hollywood movie set. Innocence leaked from every graveled covered hillside. Purity welcomed you to sit under every shade tree and rest awhile. In the light of day the delusion was perfect and all seemed well in the world. Realistically, Alex knew the picturesque scenery was deceitful. In the town of Tombstone things were far from serene. Hidden in the shadows, unseen by the general populace, evil waited with a ravenous thirst for the ignorant. For the moment, she struggled to push her worries and cares to the back of her mind. Her new friends had scheduled some much needed rest and relaxation for her, and Alex was determined to enjoy her outing for as long as she could.

Shading her eyes from the morning sun, Alexis marveled at the pure and rugged Arizona wilderness that seemed to stretch on forever. She longed to explore the countryside, to spend an unsheltered night sleeping under the stairs, but she knew women in this time didn't camp and hunt alone without the protection of a man. Of course, that didn't stop her from traveling all over Tombstone and the surrounding area at night, but during the day she needed to maintain the appearance of a respectable nineteenth century female. Her curiosity would just have to settle for a brief afternoon horseback ride with Virgil and his wife Allie. This outing would serve a dual purpose, giving her the opportunity to explore the area during the day, and at the same time give her a much needed break from the stressful routine of cooking, cleaning and patrolling each night.

Virgil had rented a horse for her use, a beautiful chocolate brown mustang with two white forefeet. _Two socks,_ she thought, _just like the book, "Dances with Wolves". _

Acting as protector and tour guide, the lawman eagerly pointed out the various landmarks that contained present and past mining sites, as well as some of the local flora and wildlife. Alex had been very impressed by his knowledge of the outdoors. As grumpy as he was most of the time, he was uncharacteristically patient as she and Allie posed one question after another. They rode for about three hours and Alex loved every minute of it.

Since her impromptu arrival in Tombstone, Virgil had taken his responsibility as her guardian very seriously. Not a day went by when he didn't take a moment to inquire if she needed anything. He also made it a point to let the Oriental's patrons know she was not to be manhandled or harassed. It was not a task he took on alone. All the Earps, and particularly Doc Holliday, took a special interest in her safety while she served the evening meal. Not a moment went by that she wasn't guarded. Either her disenfranchised dentist watched her closely from his seat at the faro table or one of the burly lawman kept things under control from his position at the bar. If one of her customers got a little out of control, he was very quickly given a lesson in manners. All things considered, Alex was very grateful. Ever conscious of the role she was playing, it certainly would have raised a few eyebrows if she were forced to subdue a two hundred pound cowboy in the middle of the Oriental's dinning room.

Allie had also taken a special interest in her well-being. The day after her arrival, she had stopped by the Oriental with a half dozen dresses for Alex to borrow. Thankfully, most of the garments were of a serviceable and plain fashion, and almost all had long sleeves, which would hide the symbols on her arms. It would be a catastrophe if anyone saw her tattoos, and she had no idea how she would explain them if they were seen. The fad was hardly popular among the men during this era, but for a woman it was entirely out of the question.

In one afternoon, the slim, yet shapely blonde had quickly changed from a complete stranger to a new friend. Alex had not realized how much she missed having a girlfriend to talk to. She found Allie's open and sweet disposition a welcome change from the dreary and often lonely lifestyle of battling evil forces that normal people knew nothing about. For the past five years she had grown accustomed to moving about in the shadows of night, tracking, hunting and killing demonic beings on behalf of the Catholic Church. Normal daily events like gossiping with a friend had not been a part of her life. It was an imbalance that she would correct if and when she finally dealt with Malachi.

She offered Allie tea, which was eagerly accepted. They sat at the small kitchen table and talked for most of the morning. Virgil's wife quickly filled Alex in on all the town gossip and at the same time delicately inquired about her background. Alex had been prepared to offer up a story if anyone should ask about her family. For consistency sake, and mostly because she didn't like to lie, she kept her story close to the truth. Basically, she left out little details such as dates and modern phrases, which might compromise the timeline. She kept her answers simple and as vague as possible. Alex had no doubt Allie would pass on what they talked about to Virgil who in turn would tell his brothers and Doc. Finally, Alex noticed the time and remarked that she needed to start dinner.

"Oh, dear. I didn't realize it was getting so late. I've got to get Virgil's dinner as well." Allie paused at the back door as she was leaving; a troubled expression suddenly crossed her face. "I don't want to frighten you Alexis, and I'm sure you're protected with Virgil, Wyatt and Doc looking after you, but… Well, there's been some trouble in town lately. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you. You seem like such a sweet girl."

"I'm not sure I understand what you're getting at Allie?"

Allie quickly looked over at the kitchen door that led to the saloon before she leaned in; keeping her voice was just above a whisper. "Virgil wouldn't like it if he knew I told you, but I think a woman has a right to know if trouble is sitting on her door step."

Allie paused as she considered how to proceed. "There have been several mysterious deaths in Tombstone lately. I've heard rumors that the bodies have been found drained of blood. A lot of the women are frightened and have begun to stay inside after dark. Virgil is very concerned and he and Morgan are trying their best to uncover the murderer. Promise me you will not go out after dark unless one of the men is with you."

Alex didn't have to pretend to be upset about this news. She had no idea things had progressed to this state and that the Earps where aware someone or something was hunting the Tombstone citizens. A feeling of urgency began to tick inside Alex's stomach. _I'm running out of time,_ she realized, followed by a flash of anger that Angel had left her alone. She blinked away her abstract thoughts, and gave the other woman a reassuring grin. "Don't worry Allie. By the time I'm done cooking, serving and cleaning up after dinner, I have very little energy to spare. I promise to be very careful."

"Oh, I'm glad. I like you very much Alexis, and I know Virg does too. And," she paused for dramatic affect, giving Alex a wicked little wink, "from what I've been hearing you've got another admirer as well. Well, I best be off. Come and see me when you can spare the time, and thank you for tea." She gave Alex a little kiss as she hurried out the door.

Alex had briefly puzzled over Allie's passing comment about a secret admirer and then she forgot about it as her task of cooking the evening meal quickly consumed her thoughts. Now as she rode along side Allie and Virgil she wondered if she should inquire about whom Allie meant. It was silly, really, for her to be thinking about romance, like a high school girl passing notes in class. There was certainly no time in her schedule for a liaison, but rationality didn't stop the womanly thrill that raced through her when she wondered if Allie had been referring to Doc. Still, the idea was baseless. Doc was very involved with Kate. The two were hardly ever separated.

The Hungarian beauty and her territorial behavior around the gambler were difficult to miss. Actually, the provocative way the woman dressed made her extremely hard to ignore. Kate's nightly post was to either stand behind or to sit beside Doc as he played poker or faro. Like a watchdog she hovered protectively by his side, visibly staring down any woman who tried to approach the gambler and engage his interest. The defensive stance was a practiced maneuver that the whore used many times throughout the course of one evening.

During the first few nights of her employment, Alex was surprised by how many young pretty women flocked around the faro table. It quickly became apparent that Doc Holliday was very appealing to the female eye. Alex had to admit, he did strike a handsome pose sitting on his throne every night, freshly washed and shaven, hair slicked neatly back, and draped in the latest style of menswear. Compared to most men who labored all day outside in the fields, the degenerate dentist looked and smelled like a living God. And he knew it too. He flirted shamelessly with every woman who cast a coin on his table, but that was a far as it went. He showed no interest in taking the game further, and Kate reinforced that concept by blocking any invitations that might be issued.

Alex also noticed how quickly and easily Kate would continuously fill Doc's glass throughout the night. It was a mystery to her why the whore would want her companion to become so thoroughly intoxicated every evening, but it was no longer a mystery to Alex how Doc became that way. Was it another form of control? Or did he enjoy getting thoroughly roasted every night? Perhaps it was a little bit of both.

Like a keepsake or photograph tucked inside a locket, there was an image of Doc Alex kept safely stowed away inside her head. Frequently, as she cooked or cleaned, she would call it forth, linger over it, study it, and even fantasize about it. It haunted her more often than she cared to admit. The illusion itself was triggered by a memory of the gambler as he played poker one night, surrounded by three other men whose visible roughness compared to a twenty-first century homeless person. Through the smoke filled saloon she watched him from across the room as she waited on tables. Concerned about his health, Alex noted his pale and sweaty complexion, eyes red and swimming in alcohol, growing angrier by the second over Kate's lack of concern for her lover. Perhaps Alex lingered too long as she studied him. Maybe she felt too much by what she witnessed, but a few moments later he looked up, aware that he was being observed, and instantly his eyes locked on hers.

Even though he was too drunk to walk and probably see straight, Alex found his gaze unsettlingly bare of pretense, sensual in its honesty. His misery was as transparent as glass. What she saw was a man who was trapped by fate. Ironically, bound hand and foot by bad luck. But as he continued to look her way, hope was gradually seeping into his blue eyes. Possibilities where ticking through his inebriated brain at lighting speed. She knew without question, at that precise moment he would like nothing better then to remove himself from his retched surroundings, walk across the room and spend the rest of the evening talking with her.

Equally disquieting was the realization that if he had cast aside his companion for the evening, she would have welcomed his company and his advances. All the while, in the back of her mind, strong opposition was pushing its way forward demanding to be heard. _I am not your savior, John Henry,_ she thought, _and I am no man's good luck charm. Just ask my demonic husband._

The spell was broken when Kate leaned over Doc's shoulder, pushing her large breasts against his body to top off his glass of whiskey again. He blinked and turned his head to gaze at the full breast that was just inches from his mouth, before making some improper remark that had the whole table, Kate included, roaring with laughter.

Most likely it was Alex's imagination that invented the scenario, but as it was taking place she found it hard to shake the feeling that he too was just playing a role. He portrayed a carefree, uncommitted gambler, happy on the outside while silently screaming on the inside.

Alex shook her head to clear her Freudian thoughts and returned her focus to the breathtaking landscape around her as she rode. The gentle rocking step of her horse was so relaxing. The Arizona sun was warm and comforting as it soaked into her tired muscles. For these few careless moments she could pretend she was a normal girl in the company of her new friends.

Allie rode sidesaddle, wearing a beautiful deep-blue riding habit and matching hat. Alex thought the pretty blond looked very elegant and refined, and apparently her husband thought so too. He took great care making sure her horse behaved and kept pace with his. Along with his protectiveness, he would often caress her hand or arm. It was an intimate gesture that seemed out of character for the gruff lawman, and that was precisely why Alex thought his affection towards his wife was very sincere.

"I would have lent you a ridding outfit Alex if you had let me." Allie frowned as she studied Alex's masculine attire.

"I know Allie, but I'm comfortable with what I'm wearing." She said while gazing down at her dungarees and soft flannel shirt she had purchased at the dry goods store with the money she had earned. Over the flannel shirt she wore a mid-length cowhide coat also newly purchased. Her head she left uncovered with her long blond hair in a plated braid hanging down her back.

"I confess, it's been a long time since I rode sidesaddle. It wouldn't do if I fell. Wyatt would never forgive me if I broke my leg and was unable to cook."

Virgil laughed. "Ain't that the truth."

"You're spoiling them, Alexis." Allie added, "I don't know what these Earps will do when you return home."

"I believe Doc and Wyatt are concocting a plan to keep her here. I know for a fact Doc is." Virgil teased, as his weatherworn face suddenly wrinkled with one of his rare smiles.

Alex shrugged, refusing to let her companions see how unsettled the topic was making her. "I don't know how you can tell, Virgil. Doc wears such a good poker face."

"I've known Doc for a few years now, and I've never seen him taken with any female until you." His smile had faded but the warm-friendly tone in his voice remained.

"Stop joking Virg. You know he cares for Kate." Alex replied, giving him a dismissive wave of her hand.

He issued an uncomfortable cough and shot her a sideways look. "Well, I wouldn't exactly phrase it that way, Alex."

"Oh… why not?" Alex's gossip radar was suddenly on high alert.

Allie clucked her tongue in response. "Those two are an odd match. No one has ever been able to figure out why they stay together. They fight like cats and dogs, especially when they both have been drinking. Kate certainly doesn't hold her liquor very well."

"Kate's a damn pain in the ass when she's on a binge. Pardon my language ladies."

Allie eagerly continued. "And there are Kate's extracurricular activities, if you know what I mean."

"Oh, dear." Alex exclaimed feeling her face get hot with embarrassment.

"Oh, yes." Allie confirmed. "But who can blame her really with Doc being so sick and all. More then half the time Wyatt has to carry him back to the hotel 'cause he's too drunk to walk. Then Kate and Doc will have a big blowup, she leaves for a few weeks or months, and then comes back to Doc as if nothing was ever wrong. I've never been able to figure out what keeps them together."

Now that her gossip report was given, Allie quickly shifted gears. "But now that you're here, Alexis, perhaps the two of you could spend some time together? Doc does seem to be very taken with you. Have you given any thought to staying in Tombstone for awhile?"

"Well… I'm not sure that would be what my family would agree too, Allie. I do have responsibilities back home. And I'm sure Doc is just being friendly and polite. I really don't think he has any serious intensions. Besides, there's Kate…" Wincing inwardly at her awkward recovery, Alex desperately tried to think of excuses she could use to discourage Allie from matchmaking.

"Oh, don't worry about her. Next time she gets drunk Virg could stick her in jail. We'll get her out of the picture for a few days, and see if that doesn't give you an edge."

Vigil could only shake his head and laugh. "Treachery, thy name is woman."

"I know he likes you, Alex." Allie added. "He wanted to ride with us today, but I think Kate got in the way again."

A clear image of a large breast lingering a breath way from Doc's full lips suddenly popped into Alex's head and she had to stifle the urge to laugh. _Gee, I wonder how she managed that?_ She could spout off as many wisecracks as she wanted, comedy would never diminish the truth. She wished with all her heart she could give serious consideration to staying in Tombstone to get to know the dentist a little better. What woman wouldn't want to solve the mystery of John Henry Holliday?

The extra attention Doc bestowed her had not escaped her notice. Whenever Kate was absent, he never missed an opportunity to speak with her when she walked into the room. Often, as she worked serving dinner, she would pause from her task to look up and find he was staring at her. On a several occasions he had made a point to visit her in the kitchen at the end of the evening meal.

Secretly, Alex had begun to look forward to his private visitations. She would usually be washing the dishes when he would walk in the room. He would always pour himself a cup of coffee, light a cigarette and sit at the table and talk to her as she cleaned up. When the last dish was dried and stacked neatly in the corner, he would make some excuse and leave to continue his gambling and drinking in the saloon. But until this moment, Alex had no idea the Earp brothers had noticed Doc's interest. Still, there was no way she could take his flirtatious visits seriously, even though she was flattered that he had singled her out.

At times it was hard to contain the giddy excitement she felt when she would look across the kitchen table and think to herself, _I'm having a private conversation with Doc Holliday_. He was a man who had puzzled historians for years having transgressed the boundaries of good Southern morality to a life of sin. She wanted to ask him why he had really left Georgia. Had he proposed marriage to his cousin and been rejected? Or, was his trip west triggered by a dark and murderous event? But mostly she wanted to know why he didn't take his illness seriously and cease his drinking, smoking and gambling habits, which were obviously hastening his death. She had so many questions for him, but there was no way she could ever give voice to any of them. Not that he would answer any of them anyway.

After one or two private conversations with Doc, she had notice he said very little about himself personally. A trait that was unusual for most men. Nearly all the boys she had dated in school talked constantly about themselves and little else. Why, her first three dates with Malachi consisted of entire one-sided conversations about his likes or dislikes, and his accomplishments over the years. It was almost as if the male race felt compelled to sell themselves to every pretty girl they met. But Doc was different. He told her amusing stories about the men he had met over the years. He asked questions about the ingredients of the meal she had just prepared. Or, he inquired about her travels in Europe. Not once had he revealed anything personal. Alex had a feeling it would take years for any woman to uncover all the secrets John Henry Holliday kept carefully hidden from the world. Intuition told her he was cautiously giving her an opportunity to explore his hidden world. He had opened the door for her to step inside if she wanted to, but he stopped short of openly asking if he could court her. A romantic relationship with the gambler was tempting, very tempting, but she knew it was forbidden and a direct violation of her vows as a Guardian. Any further involvement with him would most certainly jeopardize the timeline.

Eager to change the subject Alex asked, "Virgil, is that little hole in those rocks another opening to a mine?" She pointed to a small circular opening about two feet wide nestled in a group of rocks.

"Yep. Looks abandoned though."

"I see. It certainly is a small opening. I can't imagine anyone crawling in and out of that confided space all day."

"Was it a silver or gold mine, Virg?" Allie asked.

"Could be both. There's been gold and silver found in these hills."

"Oh, look I think I see some gold now." Alex cried. She could have sworn she saw a sparkle of gold nestled in a pile of rocks. "I'm going to take a closure look." Pulling her horse to a stop, she jumped off.

"Alex, be careful. There could be snakes." Virgil quickly dismounted, grabbing her horse's trailing reins.

"I will." She called over her shoulder while quickly walking toward the spot where she had seen the flash of gold. Kneeling to get a closer look, she recognized what had caught her attention in the sunlight. Behind her she heard Virgil approach.

"Well, are we rich?"

She laughed. "No, I'm afraid not. It's only a button, a gold button. I guess it must have fallen off of someone's coat." She held it in the palm of her hand so he could see.

"Oh well, that's wealth and fame for you. Here today, gone tomorrow."

"Very funny Virg." Allie replied dryly. "Come you two. Let's start back, it's getting late."

"Yes, we better get going. I think I can hear Wyatt's stomach growling." Alex placed the button in her coat pocket and mounted her horse.

On the way back Virgil and Allie continued their casual conversation. Alex did her best to offer the appropriate reply, but her mind was entirely focused on the button in her pocket. With her heart pounding in her chest, and her thoughts traveling a mile a minute, she tried to absorb the implications of her latest clue. To Virgil it was just a button, but to Alex it was her first inkling to Malachi's hideout. Before she had shown the gold clasp to Virgil, Alex had turned it over and read the word "Levi's" stamped on the face. She now knew Malachi must have been hiding underground.

**Excerpts from Alex's Journal – September 1881 (Day 7) **

_Finally, my first break. While riding with Virgil and Allie I found a button from Malachi's denim jacket. I think he is hiding in the mines during the day. Will investigate further tonight. _

_Much later – Borrowed Father Martin's horse and searched the hills and mines most of the night but found no trace of Malachi's hideout. Will try again tomorrow night after work._

_One positive note: On the way home I saved a Chinaman by the name of Shen Li from three vampires. They did not appear to be part of the gang of Cowboys. Victim was badly hurt and I had to reveal my face and help bind his broken arm before walking him home. I'm not worried because Mr. Li speaks not a word of English. It looks as if his arm will heal nicely so I did not see the need to perform a healing. The poor man was very upset, as he will not be able to work until his arm heals. I will see if I can do something to help._

_No sign of Angel yet. Where could he be?_


	6. Cabbage and Foreplay

**CHAPTER 5 - CABBAGE AND FOREPLAY **_(revised)_

"Come sit, and I'll teach you to play." It was more than an offer, it was a challenge. Doc gestured to the empty chair across from his faro table – the chair where suckers bucked the tiger.

Alex didn't want to play cards. She was hot, tired, and smelled like cabbage. As a matter of fact, the entire saloon smelled like cabbage. Why she had decided to add it to the evening meal she couldn't remember, all she could think about was a hot bath and her bed.

For the past two days she had only managed a few hours of sleep and the erratic pace had finally caught up with her. It seemed all she did these days was cook, clean and slay vampires. Her afternoons were spent at the saloon preparing the evening meal. Her evenings were spent serving it. When she finally closed the kitchen for the night she would rush upstairs, change her clothes to spend the rest of the night and into the early morning patrolling. So far, her head count of slayed vampires was eight. If Angel ever got here… No, wait… make that '_when'_ Angel got here, he would need to work hard to catch up.

She wiped a loose strand of hair away from her face as she looked down at Doc who was patiently waiting for her to join him. Judging from the relaxed, jovial expression he wore, she could tell he was only mildly drunk. Buzzed would be the appropriate term. Glancing around the saloon first to make sure Kate was nowhere in sight, she pulled out the chair across from him and flopped down, letting out a very unladylike groan. "Doc, I'm tired and really don't feel like playing."

His face became a mask of concern but his eyes held none of the care. Instead a devilish gleam radiated from within. "My poor sweet cook has been working too hard." He teased. Filling his glass from the whiskey bottle at the table, he slid the drink in her direction. "Here darlin', drink some of this. If it doesn't revive you, it will at least mask some of your odor."

"Screw you." She snapped back before reaching to take a large sip. Letting her eyes briefly close, she relished the pleasant warmth trailing down her throat. With one finger she coasted the glass back toward Doc, silently urging him to refill it.

He chuckled warmly at her vulgar comment. "I accept your offer, darlin. However, I must insist you bathe first." With a steady hand born from long hours of drinking, he topped off the glass and raised it to his lips, downing the contents in one impressive swallow.

Alex raised both brows at the amount of liquor he just consumed but wisely said nothing. "How about if I just shove your deck of cards up your nose instead?" His teasing was beginning to take the edge off her sour mood, although she tried not to encourage him by smiling.

Once again he touched bottle to glass, filling it only halfway this time. There was an air of hospitality in his gesture when he held the glass out to her and waited for her to accept it. "Alexis, you have me so enchanted I will endure whatever trials and tribulations you deem fit." His light-blue eyes made a careful study of her disheveled appearance. From her food splattered apron and wrinkled dress to her loosely bound braid, pale expression, and contrasting dark shadows under her eyes, he visually caressed her like a lover who was intimately familiar with her body. No matter how soiled and worn she might look at the moment, he would always find her appealing, charming, and sexually attractive.

When she reached to accept the glass his fingers gently brushed against hers, not by accident, but with purpose that could only be called seduction. "Charmer." She teased back and was rewarded by another one of his bright smiles.

Alexis sipped her drink and waited patiently for his snappy comeback. Leaning back into the chair she felt every muscle in her upper back and shoulders groan with relief. Seconds ticked by and still he said nothing as he observed her from across the table. The moment stretched into an uncomfortable silence, forcing Alex to mentally file through a half dozen aimless comments that would fill-in the gap. _Nice weather we're having. Is that a new cravat you're wearing? I guess the betting is slow this evening. Did you leave your whore at the rooming house tonight or is she busy working the other end of town? _

The last fleeting thought had her biting her tongue to stifle her dark humor. Judging from the liquid warmth she saw in Doc's blue eyes, she could tell he wasn't thinking of Kate tonight. _He's thinking of me._ And that thought was rousing her faster than the whiskey was.

There was a brief flash of uncertainty in his expression, as if he had more he wanted to tell her but was finding it hard to gather his thoughts, before he finally looked away and down at the deck of cards he was holding. He began to shuffle, flipping several cards under one another so quickly Alex had trouble focusing on the deck. _But isn't that the whole point?_ She mused. Then, while using only one hand, he cut the deck, passed a stack up and over to the top, split the deck again, spun the new stack around and then placed it on the bottom of the deck. Alex marveled at his skill and showmanship at handling the cards. Naturally, he would be very accomplished at his trade; he had been sorting and shuffling cards professionally for the past eight years.

"Whatever possessed you to cook ham and cabbage?" Doc inquired as he positioned several cards to begin a game of solitaire.

Alex reached up and rubbed a sore spot in her neck. "I believe I'll lay the blame on Allie. She got me thinking about it."

"My Allie?" Asked Virgil who had been standing quietly nearby.

Alex nodded at him as she took another sip from Doc's glass, before she continued. "I had tea with her today, and we were reminiscing about home cooked meals our mothers used to make. It seems we both have Irish backgrounds."

Virgil frowned down at her, a clear wrinkle of disgust stamped across his face. "I'll have to a little talk with her when I get home. It'll take a week to air this place out."

Alex looked up at him with a wicked gleam in her eyes. "I got bad news for you boss, it'll take a week to air your house out too. I gave her a large portion of the ham and cabbage to take home."

Doc let out a whoop of laughter that rang throughout the room, causing several patrons to look his way.

"Oh, Christ." Virgil muttered under his breath. "Damn women." Shaking his head, he walked off in the direction of the bar.

Alex turned back to Doc who was still chuckling. "Don't you laugh too hard John Henry; I can still make arrangements to have some sent up to your room."

He continued to smile, letting her know her threat had made very little impact. Leaning in, he whispered so that only she would hear. "You may do so, but only if you deliver it in person."

"Mr. Holliday, I'm appalled." She replied mockingly, laying one hand against her chest.

"Pity." He said while staring directly in her eyes with a gleam that surpassed warm by several hundred degrees. "I was hoping you would be inspired."

His tone implied he was teasing, but the look in his eyes told another tale. Alex quickly glanced away when she felt her face become hot. It was the very first time Doc had voiced his desire out loud and the effect it had on her nervous system was startling. Vainly, she struggled to calm the spike in her heart rate, but there was very little she could do to cool the heated flesh between her legs.

"I thought you wanted to show me how to play?" She stammered, hoping to change the subject but inadvertently laid the groundwork for his next seductive comment.

"I do indeed," was his husky reply, "but for now cards will have to do."

**Excerpts from Alex's Journal September 1881 (Day 9)**

_Too tired to patrol tonight. Have been awake for nearly two days. Tonight I must get some much needed rest. I am beginning to believe this is too much for one Guardian to handle. Perhaps I should ask Father Martin to call for help._

_While returning the priest's horse last night, he mentioned an increase of mysterious disappearances within the Chinese community. I told him about saving Mr. Li but that is not what had the priest upset. It seems several oriental women have gone missing. Although the Chinese are looked upon as less then human during this time period that has not deterred the kindly Father from his effort to convert them to Christianity. He learned of the high level of fear in the Chinese community while performing his missionary work. _

_I continue to investigate the area mines, and I'm slowly sterilizing each after I have looked for clues, thus making sure the undead cannot enter the site again. Malachi and his new friends will have fewer places to hide now. _

_Still no sign of Angel! I'm so mad at him, I'm not sure I would be able to have a civilized conversation with him if he does happen to make an appearance. I cannot believe he has left me alone for so long. Men… no matter what form they may take, you can never rely on them when you need them _

_Speaking of men… Doc continues his flirtatious game. In all honesty, I find him very alluring. I can't help but wonder… would it be so reprehensible if I spent an evening in his company?_


	7. Testosterone and Tea

**CHAPTER 6 - TESTOSTERONE AND TEA** _(revised)_

"Hey, look at this. It says here the _Figure in Black_ was spotted again. That makes the third appearance in two weeks. This time he saved a Chinaman." Morgan Earp snapped the paper and held it up for Wyatt to view the article over his shoulder.

There was a small scoffing sound from across the dinning table where the three Earp brothers and Doc Holliday were enjoying a quiet meal. "Apparently our crusader is a Christian soul who undoubtedly is wrapped in the warm blanket of brotherhood." Doc sneered before taking another bite of his evening meal.

"Just what we need, a vigilante with a dramatic flare." Grumbled Virgil as he buttered another biscuit. "What else does it say, Morg?"

Accompanying the small group was Kate, Doc's companion. From her viewpoint at the kitchen doorway, Alex wondered if the whore's appearance tonight was to keep Doc company or under guard. But it was Morgan's narrative that had completely captured Alex's attention, and with a nervous flutter stirring inside her stomach, she gingerly made her way to the table so that she could eavesdrop on the conversation.

It was pure stupidity on her part to not realize her acts of salvation would eventually find their way to newsprint, but encounters with the local residents were proving hard to avoid. Tombstone was just too damn active at night. With a dozen or so saloons to patronize, multiple whorehouses, and several drug dens, very few citizens bothered to go home after sunset. Twice within the past week her alias had been mentioned in a news column. The article Morgan was reading would make the third time. At this point in her game plan, her mission had moved way beyond screwed up and was quickly approaching catastrophic. The only positive aspect Alex could focus on was that her gender had not been revealed. The large dark hood on the cloak Father Martin had lent her was proving to be very, very useful.

A strange tingling sensation skirting across the back of her neck tore her away from her inner thoughts and had her looking up for the source of the discomfort. Across the disarray of dirty dishes she felt Doc's smoldering stare. Almost against her will she met his gaze, felt her face flush and quickly looked away. Hunger, longing and need, were very clearly visible in his features, written in indelible ink that only she was supposed to see. _I'm sorry._ _I can't accept_, she wanted to tell him, and to explain why in the kindest, gentlest means possible, knowing his pride and fragile ego would demand nothing less than the softest refusal. Any explanation was of course impossible. In the end she could be nothing more than a fragrant breeze that passed into his life and then out again. He would never really know who she really was or where went after she disappeared.

"Two nights ago the Chinese guy was walking home from his job at the mines when he was attacked by three men and … oh, wow!" Morgan stopped reading aloud and quietly became engrossed in the article, his lips silently mouthing every word.

"What is it Morgan? Damn it boy, spit it out." Virgil was quickly growing impatient.

Keeping her eyes firmly locked on her duties, Alex slowly circled as she poured coffee. Doc's cup was the last she filled. When she stood by his side he let his hand drop below the table and ever so softly brushed against her thigh. The bold flirtatious move startled her; coffee sloshed over the rim of his cup and onto the table. He never looked directly at her and for a moment Alex thought he had mistakenly touched her, but as she mopped up the spill she noticed his lips curl in a faint smile. Making good her escape, she quickly moved away from him before he could disturb her further, and continued to circle the table retrieving empty plates as she went.

Doc's engaging maneuver had not escaped Kate's attention. She flashed him a dark look before turning her angry eyes on Alex, but before she could vent her objections Morgan snapped out of his silent reverie. "Sorry Virgil but this story is just so odd. It says the three men who attacked the Chinaman had faces like an animal."

Wyatt chuckled lightly, finding the article highly amusing. "Yeah, sure they did. What about the guy dressed in black? What did he do?" He urged.

"You'll never believe this… he jumped down from the roof of the dry goods store, pushed the Chinese guy out of the way and began to fight the three men fisticuffs. The guy in black then pulls a piece of wood from under his cloak, stabs the animal-faced-men in the chest and they all turned to dust." Morgan lowered the paper slowly, his eyes wide with shock while looking toward his brothers to get their opinion.

"Very entertaining." Doc mumbled as he lit a cigarette. He shifted his eyes in Alex's direction hoping to make eye contact with her again, but when she stubbornly refused to look up from her task he turned his attention back to Morgan.

"Well, is that the end or does it say anything else?" Wyatt asked as he took a sip of coffee.

"No, that's it." Morgan folded the paper and handed it to Virgil who seemed determined to find some missing information his brother neglected to relay.

"You mean they don't have any idea who this guy in black is?" Virgil asked as he aggressively scanned the newsprint.

"Not a clue." Morgan replied.

Alex felt a wave of relief wash over her as she quietly walked away from the table. Apparently, Mr. Li was able to relate his tale to someone who translated for him. Thankfully, he did not mention that the _Figure in Black_ was also a woman. It seemed the Li family was highly trustworthy.

"Ah, hell!" Virgil cursed while tossing the paper on the table. "You know what that means don't ya, Morgan? It means it is just a matter of time before Behan and the other town officials ask us to find out who this guy is."

There was a loud crash and all eyes turned to look at Alex who had just dropped two dirty plates on the floor.

"You are all right, Alex?" Wyatt called.

Keeping her eyes on the damaged china, Alex struggled to pick up the broken pieces with fingers that trembled with from fright. "For the moment, Wyatt, yes I am. Thank you for asking."

In the kitchen she dumped the broken dishes into a trash bin before leaning back against the counter to steady her nerves. _Oh bloody hell,_ she silently stewed. With the addition of the savvy lawman thrown into the equation, things had just gotten more complicated then she had ever anticipated. _What am I going to do if I have to hunt vampires and sidestep the Earp brothers at the same time? _

But there was no time to dawdle over her current misfortune, nor was there time to work out a solution to the dilemma. _Which is half my problem_, she realized as she pushed away from the counter. Jumping from situation to situation every night, she had been thinking on her feet since her first day in town. There was bound to be a mistake or two in her strategy. She put on the kettle to heat water for some tea. A nice cup of chamomile would help her stay calm and think this problem through. While the water boiled she washed up the few remaining dinner dishes. The kitchen was closed for the night; if she quickly finished her chores she could get a head start on her evening patrol.

A soft knock on the kitchen's back door interrupted her brooding. Turning, Alex received her third shock of the evening when she found Johnny Ringo standing in the open doorway.

"Evening." He called as he eased through the entrance, his voice steady, his manner composed. Ringo's demeanor was so different from the last time she had seen him, Alex almost doubted it was the same man.

"I hope you don't mind if I pay you a visit." His gaze fixed first on her face before slowly roaming over her body; his hazel eyes warming like a calm sea, telling Alex he approved of her appearance despite of her wrinkled, food-stained apron and disheveled hair.

"Mind? No, why would I mind?" Stepping lightly across the kitchen, she quickly closed the door that lead to the saloon before anyone noticed she had a visitor. "But you really shouldn't be here, Mr. Ringo. The sun is down and it's not safe to be outside."

"John." He corrected as he ambled toward her, stopping just inches from touching her body. His hand floated toward her face to capture a stray wisp of hair, smoothing the blonde curl between his rough fingertips. "I've been thinking about you." He whispered stirring a secret thrill in the pit of Alex's stomach over the subliminal nature of his inner thoughts.

He was drunk. She could smell the whiskey on his breath, the order blending with the soap he had used to bathe with recently, giving him a raw masculine scent. Alex found the combination was not entirely unpleasant as she once again admired the unique shade of his eyes. His gaze roamed eagerly over her face fueled by his intoxication and yet still sharply aware of what he was doing. Given the circumstances, Alex wondered how she should proceed.

"John, why did you leave the safety of the church?" But before he could answer the teakettle began to whistle giving her the excuse to step away from him and focus her attention elsewhere. While she poured hot water into the teapot she heard him sit down at the table. Inwardly, she sighed with relief. The last thing she needed was a wrestling match with Johnny Ringo.

"I never got to properly thank you." He replied.

"There's no need. Would you like some tea?"

Ringo laughed openly at her for a moment, knowing it had been years since he had swallowed anything but hard whiskey followed by the occasional glass of water. Shrugging, he beamed a lusty smile at her. "Sure, why not."

"Did you have supper?" Alex asked as she laced the china teapot with chamomile, lemon, and honey.

"Only a quart of whiskey. Does that count?"

"I have meatloaf and potatoes?" She offered. _And lots and lots of bread to soak up all the liquor sloshing around in your stomach. _

"Sounds good, Alex. Thank you."

Her skin rippled at the sound of her name, and mentally she scolded her hormonal reaction. _Wrong time and wrong outlaw, _she chided, thinking of Doc working faro in the saloon. _Don't forget the whore hanging over his shoulder_, her inner self sang back. Setting a hot plate down in front of Ringo, she took the chair at the opposite end of the table. Out of hands reach, and yet not far enough she realized when a breeze from the open door carried his warm scent through the room.

Alex sipped her tea and watched him eat as she silently contemplated the man before her. There was something about John Ringo that she couldn't quite put her finger on; a particular air surrounding him that was dark and disturbing. She didn't have a name for what she was sensing in him, or perhaps it was what she was _not_ sensing that was troubling. She reached for her spoon, and began to stir the tea in her cup just to have something to occupy her hands. As she watched the golden liquid travel in a circular stream around the china it dawned on her what the cowboy was lacking.

Johnny Ringo was a picture of a man and nothing more. He was a mirror, a projected image, totally void of substance. There was no doubt in her mind that he could feel all the human emotions: love, passion, sadness, laughter, anger, but they would never stick to him. He would never hold these emotions within his heart because his heart was no longer a three dimensional object. It was flat, empty. Emotions would strike him, like the tea in her cup struck the china only to roll off and dry when the cup was empty. At sometime in his past he had stopped interacting with humanity and constructed a wall around his soul. Alex understood the need for a person to occasional block out extra emotional stimulus. It's a self-defense reflex. Normally, people who construct walls will still continue to turn and toss their emotional struggles in private behind the safety of that wall. John had built the wall only he let all his emotions drain out through the porous holes in his soul. What was left was only the shell of what the man once was – a vessel that would never again ever hold anything dear.

How did he come to this she wondered? What event led to this sad and tragic end? And what a shame the close call he had the night she saved him didn't awaken some measure of self-preservation in him that would allow him to step out from behind his wall and awaken to the joys of humanity again. Never the less, their chance meeting must have stirred something within him that initiated his desire to see her again. With trepidation she wondered what it could be.

When he asked her a few simple questions about her arrival in Tombstone, Alex was relieved. She had expected him to inquire about her fighting skills, or perhaps ask in detail who she was and why she knew about vampires. Ever conscience of her need for secrecy, she gave him a watered down version of what she had given the Earps, minus the runaway friend. Ringo already knew she was no common female who just happened to get stranded in Tombstone. Her goal was to keep her personal details to a minimum. It wouldn't do to disturb the timeline any more then she had already and the less Johnny knew about her, the better off he would be.

Curious if anyone had noticed he was missing, Alex inquired about his friends. Frowning, he said he had not seen any of his comrades. Mostly he had stayed inside the church. This afternoon he wandered through town until he decided to purchase a bottle and went back to the church to get drunk, which lead to the desire to pay her a visit.

"Father Martin said you where cooking here." His eyes raked over the room as if looking for some hidden meaning behind her employment. "Funny thing for _you_ to do." Before she could reply or inquire further he abruptly changed subjects. "Here, I brought back your rosary." Reaching into a coat pocket he withdrew the beads, placing them unceremoniously in her hand. "It's not right I should keep them."

Mindlessly, Alex stared down at her palm, fascinated by the garnet and gold beads that still radiated warmth obtained from his body heat. "I don't mind if you do, Mr. Ringo."

"John." He reminded. "Well, I do mind. I'm giving them back." His chin jerked toward her upturned palm that was holding the rapidly cooling beads, firmly telling her his decision was final.

She wanted to ask him to change his mind and keep the rosary, thinking it would keep him safe from harm, but before she could Doc walked into the kitchen unannounced. The shock of finding her alone with another man flashed briefly on his face before it was replaced by a look of pure malice; an expression she had yet to see him use. Unexpectedly, her exploration into Doc Holliday's world had just revealed his darker side. It was a trait she had read about in books but had not personally witnessed since her arrival in Tombstone. Before she could fumble over an excuse for Ringo's visit Doc verbally lashed out; a foreshadowing of a more severe punishment that was still to come.

"Alexis, darlin," he crooned, "you appear to be much engaged at the moment, and here I thought you would be up to your elbows in lonely dishwater. Obviously, I am mistaken."

His voice dripped with icy sarcasm, and all at once the hair on the back of Alex's neck stood on end. Unconsciously, or perhaps due to a deep motivation to protect herself, she clutched the rosary tightly to her breast, like a shield to ward off his harsh words. _This is what it feels like to have a man angry with you,_ she thought. _A nineteenth-century man, who fully believes it's his right and duty to discipline a sinful woman._

Johnny Ringo was not as disturbed as Doc. He leaned back, assuming a comfortable posture against the chair as he offered the other man a cold smile. Slowly, his eyes passed over Alex, caressing her in ways his hands longed to do, making no effort to hide his inner thoughts from the gambler. The playing field leaned mercilessly toward his advantage. The element of surprise was in his favor. When he returned his gaze to Doc the smirk he wore said clearly, _I want her and I was here first. Fuck you, I ain't moving,_ and then he casually reached for his cup to sip his tea. Competition was never something Johnny Ringo ran from. He would sit here and see how much he could rattle the other man's composure.

Alex glanced back to the cowboy to see how he perceived the situation, but Ringo's expression gave her no comfort. The barest trace of a smile was lingering on his lips, but his hazel eyes had turned cold and dark, completely concealing any hint of emotion. _Here it comes, _she thought,_ the calm before the storm._

With fluid grace, Ringo set the cup back on the table. Tilting his head a little to one side he looked up at Doc with eyes that could gape at the doorway to hell and never blink. "You must be Doc Holliday? I heard about you."

"Indeed." Doc mocked, keeping his voice level, his pitch purposely low. "And you must be Johnny Ringo, I heard about you too, and none of it was good. It now appears you also sneak through backdoors to solicit free meals from unsuspecting young ladies."

"Doc, it's not what you think." Alex pleaded, hoping the small measure of trust he might have in her would allow him to reconsider the situation.

Once again he proved her wrong when his angry eyes jerked in her direction, flashing promises of retribution as soon as he had her alone. "Actually darlin, the situation speaks for itself." He turned his attention back to Ringo, dismissing her easily and so completely it was as if she had left the room. "I think it's time for you to take your leave." It wasn't a question or even a request. It was a demand with a hidden "or else" dangling in the cold depths of his eyes.

"Really?" Johnny sang with a twinkle of pleasure spinning in his cold gaze. There was no doubt in Alex's mind that the possibility of bloodshed was giving him a cerebral high. Almost simultaneously he slid his chair back from the table, letting his hand dropped to his hip, brushing gently in readiness against the handle of his gun. "Well, I haven't had my dessert yet."

Without the slightest hesitation Doc answered Ringo's challenge. Alex never saw him raise his hand, and yet there was no mistaking the soft tap, tap, tapping beat his fingertips played against the pearl handle of his colt. Any minute now these two stupid men were going to shoot at each other, and like it or not, it would be over her.

Keeping her eyes on Ringo, Alex softly begged, "Doc, please..."

But it wasn't Doc who broke away first. Blinking slowly, as if clearing away the temporary insanity from his brain, Ringo slowly placed both hands on the tabletop, signaling his silent surrender. His hazel eyes came back to life, softening, warming as they settled on her. "I don't want to cause you trouble." His sincerity was so heartfelt, it immediately spiked Alex's regret over the way Doc had intruded on a private conversation and consequently picked a fight. "Thank you for the meal, Alexis." He slowly stood up, pushed in his chair and walked casually toward the backdoor.

At the doorway he lingered, placing the palm of his hand against the frame as he studied the dark town. He looked over his shoulder at her and gave one last parting remark. "I'm leaving town in the morning. I wanted you to know that, and I also wanted to return your beads and say goodbye."

Before Alex could reply Ringo then turned feral eyes on Doc. "You have no idea. No idea at all who she really is." Then he gave Doc a smug smile. "But I do."

His departing announcement couldn't have been more of a surprise. It was very clear to Alex that Johnny Ringo knew more about her identity then he had let on. How, why or when, he had learned her history were questions she never had the opportunity to ask. Ringo gave her a slight nod, turned and walked out the door.

It would be the very last time Alex saw Johnny Ringo alive.

The seconds following the cowboy's departure were short and sweet. A flurry of questions ran rampant in her head, along with scenarios, and possible courses of action before Doc tubercular cough reminded her she was not alone. In a flash of a second she transitioned from stunned to furious. Her voice joined her anger when she leaped up from her chair to do battle with the man who had almost spilt blood in her kitchen. "Are you out of your southern-fucking mind? What game are you playing, Doc?"

His response was not immediate. Alex received the full impact of Doc's icy blue eyes, freezing her with his subzero anger for what felt like hours. Lips that were normally soft and full were now pinched into a thin line under his mustache and Alex could see the muscles in his jaw working as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. He was in a silent rage and was barely holding his temper in check. Fascinated at his transformation she studied him while waiting for the next scolding remark to fly from his mouth. But the staring game proved to be more than she could handle. As the seconds passed, she began to feel more and more like an eight-year old who had just been sent to the principal's office to be disciplined.

As the child-like sensation continued to grow, Alex wondered when the gambler finally found his voice what he would say. What would he do? And more importantly, how would he do it? Did he really think he could punish her for taking tea with another man? Then reality struck along with her reason. _I'm not a little girl who needs to be regimented._ She was a twenty-four year old woman and a full-fledge, battled-seasoned Guardian, who could, if she wanted to, kick some serious ass. "Well, damn it! Spit it out!" She snapped at him.

For a moment more he continued to glare at her, making not a sound, and then his rage spilled over the dam. His hands snaked out, clamping onto her upper arms, his thumbs sinking deep into her flesh with a strength that surprised her. The rosary she had been clasping so tightly slipped out of her hand when he began to shake her and in a low, heated voice hissed, "Do you have any idea who was just sitting at your table?"

Her head snapped back and forth several times before she cried, "Stop it. Stop shaking me."

Amazingly he stopped, but his hold on her upper arms only tightened further. "Johnny Ringo is a killer, a cold-blooded killer, and may I remind you that you are a stranded wayward girl who is under my protection. You do NOT entertain men while you are in my care! Do you understand me?"

"Let go of me!" She screeched. "I've had enough of your pseudo-macho, Victorian crap!"

Her last comment seemed to take him by surprise. Doc released her by giving her a small push. She stumbled backward, landing against the table, touched the surface lightly to regain her balance before slapping him soundly across the face.

The crack of her palm hitting his cheek seemed to reverberate off the walls. A moment later a crisp red mark mimicking the shape of her hand appeared on his skin. She was shocked to her toes at what she had just done to him, and the mark her anger had left on his handsome face. Her astonishment, however, was quickly displaced by fear as she observed the fury building in his eyes. It wasn't possible for a man to look any more hostile then John Holliday did at that moment. Retribution was undoubtedly coming her way. She wondered if she ran now would he have the stamina to chase her. Unconsciously, she took a step backwards and bumped against the table again.

Doc grabbed her left upper arm to hold her still, his right hand rising to the level of her face. For a moment it looked to Alex like he was going to strike her back when a hot gust of air escaped his mouth, a prelude to the rash of coughing that followed. The force bent him double at the waist. Doc released her, slapping his left hand across his chest in a feeble effort to stop the tearing inside his lungs. The sharp grimace of pain that was clearly displayed on his face had Alex shaking with alarm. As quick as he could, Doc reached into his pocket with his right hand for a handkerchief to shield his mouth, a gesture Alex had seen him make a hundred times. This time he was too late. Blood spewed from his lips, splashing across her apron, onto her shoes and the floor.

The sight of his blood had her instantly in motion. She reached for him, slipping her arm around his waist, wanting only to hold him steady and at the same time wondering how far she should go to stop the bleeding. He moaned in protest, turning away from her until all she managed to grab was the back of his coat.

"Sweet Jesus!" She exclaimed. "Doc, are you all right?"

Answering was next to impossible. The short hitching gasps he emitted told her the spasm was so strong he was having trouble catching his breath. Alex knew it was only a matter of moments before he lost consciousness. With one hand she snagged Doc's coattails, with the other she grabbed him firmly by the arm, steering him down into the chair. His face had turned a deep red, eyes squeezed shut he swayed with each expulsion as he struggled, coughed and gasped for air. Splashes of deep red began to seep through his fingers as the blood spilling from his mouth began to overwhelm the cotton hanky.

Kneeling at his feet, Alex tried to steady his upper body to stop him from falling off the chair but he continued to fight her by turning his face in the opposite direction while pushing her away with his free hand. Weakly, he braced his elbow on the tabletop for support.

"Is there anything I can do? Perhaps a glass of water? John?" She heard another moan mixed with the wet rattle emitting from his lungs. _Stupid, did you really expect him to be able to answer?_

She had caused this. Doc was hemorrhaging right in front of her eyes and it was all her fault. Alex didn't weigh the consequences she just fixed it. Quickly, she undid the top two buttons on his vest, slipped her hand between the silk waistcoat and his shirt until her hand rested against his breast. She could feel every bone in his chest pushing out against her palm in unison with the spasms racing through his lungs, and through it all, the alarming rate in which his heart beat. _So thin, _she thought, _and_ _frail. So much more so than I realized_. With her other hand she reached under his jacket, her hand caressing every protruding rib until she made contact with his back. The heat from his body was several degrees above normal. Low-grade temperature. Three words that sent her guilt skyrocketing. _He's sick with fever and what do I do? I lose my temper and try to clean his clock. But I can fix this. _Alex sent a silent prayer of forgiveness heavenward. Using her gift in this manner was a violation that the Guardians would not forgive. It was a serious breach of protocol that if her superiors discovered would warrant instant removal from active duty. She was not even sure she could use her ability without the guidance of a Guardian instructor, but she had to try for Doc's sake.

Doc felt the world around him begin to fade. The startled cries from Alex had a hollow tone, as if she were calling his name from the bottom of a deep well. And yet, he still managed to find amusement when she offered to get him a glass of water. When did that tepid liquid ever give him any relief? Scotch or bourbon was the only medicine he took now. His humor was short lived as the sharp pain in his chest began to merge with the burning feeling in his lungs. _Can't breathe. Can't breathe. Can't breathe._ Years of experience taught him to disregard his rising panic, to remain calm and ignore the need for air as he patiently waited for the spasm to pass. Any moment now the seizure would let up and he would be able to suck in air again. But the seconds felt like minutes, the minutes like hours. Slowly, a pleasant tingling sensation began to spread throughout his limbs and he knew what would happen next. _I'm blacking out. _That thought had him flailing with panic. He didn't want to look like a bigger fool in front of this woman than he already did. If given the choice, he would rather walk down Allen Street buck-naked than fall into a bloody heap on Alex's kitchen floor.

He should have anticipated this attack. Explosive spikes in his temper almost always ended in a coughing spell. When he first walked into Alex's kitchen he should have taken one look at the cozy setting and walked right out again. But all that afternoon he had longed to see her. Half a dozen scenarios played in his head for any reason to venture to the Oriental alone. Sadly, none of his ideas were good ones. Left with no other options he paced the hotel room like a caged animal, stuck in a twelve by fourteen foot cell with Kate, and no other choice but to patiently wait until the dinner hour.

_Ringo._ The name was like a curse, like a cancer eating away at his hopes, his dreams, and the tiny piece of joy he found since Alex's arrival. _How did they meet?_ He wondered. And more importantly,_ how well do they know each other?_ That question, that uncertainty, had pushed him over the edge. If the degenerate cowboy hadn't made a quick exit, Doc was quite certain he'd be dead right now. After all, a bullet through the brain would kill the most determined competition.

How surprised he had been when Alex showed not the tiniest remorse or guilt over her liaison. The hellcat even had the nerve to vent her anger at him, which only confirmed his suspicions. She was fucking the cowboy. He was certain of it now. Why else would she be so furious at him? The floodgate opened wide, and suddenly all his hurt and anger at being rejected had him seeing red. Ironically, it was his disease that saved him from hitting her, because if he hadn't started to cough he would have struck her back just to hurt her as much as she hurt him.

The rage quickly passed, and now all he wanted was a quick exit. If the good Lord would only give him the strength to stand and walk out the kitchen door, he might be able to save what little dignity he had left. When he felt her grab his upper arm and pull him toward the chair his first thought was 'nursemaid'. She's going to play nursemaid to the invalid and that shame had him floundering to protect his bruised pride, but then she knelt at his feet and the warm-caressing touch of her hands slid around his upper body. _A hug?_ He thought dreamily as a grey mist flooded his brain. _She's hugging me? If I should die, _he prayed,_ let it be now in her arms. _And then he felt her warmth flow over his back, through his chest and into the bloody tissue of his lungs. Little by little his pain and cough began to melt away.

Alex reached outward with her mind connecting ever so lightly with Doc's body. For a moment she felt the full impact of the pain he was in and the extent of the illness as it ravaged his body. He was so thick with the disease she could see it choking the life slowly from him. Her own natural defenses screamed for her to pull away and break the connection but she forced herself to be calm while she adjusted to the illness in his body. Once she had regained control over her emotions, she gently closed the bleeding tissue within his lungs, and began to ease the fever and pain that raced through his chest. She resisted the urge to cough as she took the spasm from his body and into her own.

Immediately, he began to relax and lean into her embrace. Letting the hanky slip from his mouth, he gasped, filling his lungs with air while wrapping his other arm around her neck, the fingers of his hand burrowing deep into the base of her scalp, pulling loose her braid until her hair spilled over her shoulders. She felt the weight of his chin resting against the top of her head, heard the rush of his breath blow against her cheek and neck as he nuzzled into the golden tresses. He breathed deeply, once and then twice more, completely free from pain.

How easy it would be for her to fully absorb his disease and free him from the bonds of death. Sadly, she remembered he would only be thirty-six years old when he would die. He would be alone with no family to give him comfort, destined to die in a hotel room in Colorado just six years from now. What if she changed his future? Would it really make that much of a difference to the world if John Holliday lived to be an old man? For a moment she seriously considered interfering with destiny, but her training as a Guardian wouldn't let her. Reluctantly, she broke the connection, feeling strangely disconnected and alone from the separation.

She should move away from him now, his condition was much improved, yet she couldn't seem to resist the pleasure of his warm body pressed against hers. Unconsciously, she gripped him harder, a sharp ache settling between her legs when he groaned with pleasure. It had been too long since a man held her or caressed her like this. For just a moment she closed her eyes and dreamed he belonged to her utterly and completely; that she could lead him upstairs and for the next several hours slowly strip him naked of the pain he felt from life and of the pain she felt as well. Together they could perform their own private healing and for just a little while life would be good.

With a great deal of regret Alexis pulled away from Doc's warmth, reaching up to place her right hand against his face. With a gentle touch she healed the scolded skin on his cheek. Swallowing past the lump in her throat she gazed back at the confusion she saw in his eyes and whispered, "I'm so sorry I hurt you. Forgive me."

For a moment he embraced her once more, letting his hand slide down her back to gather the mass of her hair into his one hand again. He sighed deeply and then kissed her lightly on her forehead before he pulled away. "A small misunderstanding, darlin. Let's not talk about it again." Doc croaked, as he began to straighten his attire and to wipe the blood from his lips. Feeling too unsettled emotionally, he refused to look her in the eyes, but instead reached into his pocket and withdrew a silver flask.

She placed her hand over his before he could drink and when he looked back at her again she could see how much their fight had shaken his composure. "John, I really am sorry."

His eyes quickly filled with tenderness and the promise of undisclosed pleasures if she should choose to follow him. "As am I Alex."

She didn't mean to reach for him again, didn't mean to prolong the tender moment any more than she had, but she suddenly found her hand gently caressing his face and brushing his hair back from his eyes – an intimate touch that she had no right or privilege to enjoy.

"Ringo?" The question was wrong, ill conceived and badly timed, but Doc had to know. He wouldn't be able to rest until he was certain of where he stood.

Alexis shook her head, knowing exactly what he was asking. "He means nothing to me."

Five little words that shattered the wall of heartache pressing against his soul, and for the first time since their fight he offered her a small smile. "I would kiss you now, but my mouth is fouled with the taste of blood."

"Oh, God." She squeaked and burst into tears.

"Well, this won't do either. My handkerchief is soiled as well."

Crying harder, Alex got up off her knees and walked to the counter where she kept a fresh supply of dishtowels. Grabbing one from the top, she buried her face in the folds to stifle her sobs, then walked to the backdoor and leaned against the doorframe, gulping the fresh air as she tried unsuccessfully to calm down. Where, why or how this fountain of tears sprang from she couldn't say. She only knew it was there, pressing inside of her chest until it could escape. The tears were for Doc and for Ringo, but mostly for herself and the hopelessness that was a constant friend for the past year. "Oh God, I can't do this." She cried anew.

She heard Doc rise from the chair and the soft clopping sound of his boot heels as he crossed the room to stand behind her. The heat of his body reached her first, followed by aroma of his skin before she felt him grasp her gently by the shoulders and pull her firmly against his chest. With both hands he skimmed his fingers over her shoulders, caressing her softly, kneading the tight muscles, before circling toward the front of her throat to continue his slow and sensual rhythm against the sensitive skin on her neck.

"What is it, Alex? What can't you do?" He whispered against ear.

"This." She sniffled, waving her hand to indicate their present situation.

Doc sighed deeply, as if he had just come to a very difficult conclusion. "What if I asked… no, begged you to try. Would you?"

Alex's heart raced so hard within her chest she was sure Doc could hear it beating. Was he really asking her what she thought he was asking? Before she could think how to reply she heard the kitchen door open.

"Doc! What the hell do you two think you're doing?" Kate yelled.


	8. Exodus

**CHAPTER 7 - EXODUS **_(revised)_

"Doc! What the hell do you two think you're doing?" Kate yelled.

Alex felt the rush of anger surge through Doc right before he dropped his hands from her shoulders and turned to face his angry companion. "Why Kate, I can't remember the last time you entered a kitchen." His icy composure was back and surprisingly stronger than before. "What do you want?" He snarled stepping forward, partially shielding Alex with his body.

Doc's irate response had taken Kate off guard. She quickly took in the dark expression on his face and they way he hovered protectively in front of the startled blonde. It was Kate's first clue to how seriously her lover was considering trading up. Realizing her world was in jeopardy; she narrowed her blue eyes and studied her competition.

The prim, straight-laced cook, with her plain hairstyle and stain-ridden apron did not appear to be the type of woman who would take up with a gambler with Doc's reputation, and yet the freshly shed tears on the woman's face told another tale. A familiar odor lingering in the room had the saloon whore looking rapidly around for evidence. There on the table, a hasty meal shared over hot cups of tea but the fresh drops of red on the table could not be mistaken and on the floor there was more blood. Lying next to it was a forgotten crucifix. The blood soaked hanky dangling from the outer pocket of Doc's coat gave her a more detailed report. _Mystery solved_, Kate thought. Apparently, Doc had a coughing spell, scaring Alex into tears and prayers. But was he calming her fears or pleading with her to accept him in spite of his condition? Each explanation had only one conclusion – he cared for this woman and that was motive enough for Kate to attack.

"Did I interrupt your latest seduction, Doc?" Jerking her chin toward Alex she prepared to issue her first insult. "I would not have thought your romantic interest gravitated towards the help. You have always pursued a more genteel conquest." Stepping further into the room, Kate slammed the kitchen door closed behind her, while preparing to transfer her attention from Doc toward Alex, beaming furiously at the blonde cook. "Did you think you were special? The first to fall under his spell?" She smiled coldly. "Well sweetheart, I'm here to tell you, you're not. You are one of many."

Doc stepped forward and grabbed Kate roughly by her arm. "Kate, that's enough!" He hissed with such force Alex was afraid he would start to cough again.

"Oh, how right you are, Doc. It is enough!" She struggled to free her arm from his grasp. "I'm leaving."

"Sooner then you think if you don't stop your ranting." With determination, he began to drag her towards the door.

But Kate was not through with Alex yet. Digging in her heels, she pointed one manicured finger in Alex's direction. "You remember this, he always comes back to me, and do you know why? Because I am the only one who will put up with his sickness and his depraved drunken habit, that's why. All the others soon grow tired of cleaning up after him. That is, if they don't catch his cough first."

"That's enough!" Doc roared. Grabbing her roughly around the waist, he jerked the door open and tossed her bodily out of the kitchen and into the saloon.

Through all of this Alex hadn't moved from her spot by the back door. Her whole body vibrated from the shock of the confrontation. _So, that's why they stay together, _she thought.

She could hear their fight continue out in the saloon, growing louder by the second. Words spoken in anger rang out over the general atmosphere. Kate's voice becoming shrill, calling Doc a two-timing son of a bitch. Doc answered first with bitter laughter before tossing back a vulgar four-letter word. Finally, Alex heard Virgil's voice rise above the ruckus as he ordered Kate and Doc to leave and take their fight elsewhere.

"Oh, God." Alexis squeaked. "Poor Doc."

The impulse to break free and to run as far as she could from the reality she had inadvertently stumbled upon was overwhelming. But still she stood frozen, stunned, as she looked about the now empty kitchen and the evidence the turbulent evening had left behind. Two dirty teacups and a sink full of food stained dishes. A rumpled dishtowel, not to mention blood splattered apron, shoes and floor. "Bloody hell, indeed." She cursed and stooped to pick up the rosary she had dropped on the floor.

Alex raced upstairs to her room, and quickly began to change into the clothes she wore on patrol – her old tried and true wardrobe. Black leather pants, matching leather jacket that fell just below her hips and black boots. Under her jacket she wore a specially constructed vest that held the tools of her trade: wooden throwing darts, several sharp stakes, a ten-inch knife, and a 9mm handgun. Strapped to her hip was a leather sheath that held her favorite sword, a Scottish Claymore, a gift from Malachi when she had passed her initiation trials to become a Guardian. To top the outfit she wrapped around her shoulders the black cloak with hood that Father Martin had lent her.

"The Figure in Black rides again." She mumbled to herself, while climbing out the bedroom window, eager for a fight that would release the tension of the evening's events.

Fortune was in her favor. On the south side of town she found two pale looking cowboys leading a pair of girls to a secluded barn that housed the cattle that would be sold at the next auction. As Alex watched them walk towards the building she couldn't help but noticed the subtle signals the men exchanged, then right before they faded into the shadow of the building the one cowboy glanced again at his companion and Alex saw his eyes flash silver when his demonic nature momentarily emerged. The girls were oblivious to the danger they were in as they delicately maneuvered through the dirt road and piles of animal dropping left behind by the horses and cows that trespassed daily through the town streets. As they entered the building she heard one man say something about checking on his cows before taking the girls out to dinner.

With the taste of bile flooding her mouth, Alex quietly followed, circling to the rear of the building with the intent on halting the soon-to-be slaughter. Braced against the outside wall of the barn was a ladder, and above her head an open door that led to the hayloft. The upper level would be an ideal viewpoint. From there she would be unobserved and yet still able to get watch the two vampires and their intended victims. After climbing up Alex crawled close to the edge of the loft and peered down to the scene below. The smell of cow dung and urine immediately assaulted her senses. The urge to breathe through her mouth was strong, but afraid the vampires would detect her respiration with their sensitive hearing she choked back the impulse keeping her respiration soft and shallow.

"Which cows are yours, Tom?" One girl asked. She was a pretty brunette, probably no more than nineteen years of age from what Alex could see in the dusky shadows. The other girl appeared a bit younger, closer to seventeen years old. Judging from the style of dress, Alex could tell they were both town girls, and working ones at that. Intent on applying their trade, both women clung to the arms of their escorts as they walked unknowingly to their death.

_Thank God for women's liberation,_ Alex thought, _or most of my sex would still be spreading their legs for any Tom, Dick or Vampire that came along. _Tonight she would perform a little liberation of her own.

"Those little heifers over there are mine." The first cowboy-vampire replied while pointing to the darkest corner of the building and also the furthest from any means of escape, Alex noticed. "How 'bout you sweetness, want to be my heifer too?" Grabbing her close, he nuzzled into girl's neck, and Alex could almost hear the dinner bell ringing.

Together the vampires steered their prey towards the back of the building; the girls giggling and flirting the entire time, walking blindly toward their death. It always amazed Alex how the unsuspecting public would rationalize any sign or appearance of the supernatural. As she watched the women amble along with the demons, she wanted to shout or scream, '_don't you sense something is wrong, or unnatural? Isn't the hair along the back of your neck standing on end? Doesn't your flesh creep every time you make contact with his cold body?'_ But at one time, not long ago, Alex had lived in ignorant bliss, going from one day to the next never knowing if the man she passed on the street was a vampire or not. Such things didn't exist in a normal world. It was only after her initiation into the Guardians that her blinders were removed. Today, she could spot a vampire at sixty paces.

Using a rope that held a large wench, Alex slid silently to the ground floor, easing her way through the shadows along the opposite side of the barn; her dark cloak seamlessly blending her form against the darkness.

She heard another giggle. "Are you calling me a cow, Tom? Tell me handsome, does this breast feel like the teat of a cow?"

Crude laughter followed. "Well, I don't know sweetness? What do you think Frank? Does your gal have a teat like a cow?"

"Maybe, maybe not Tom. Either way they're both dead meat."

From the sounds of the girl's screams Alex surmised the moment of revelation was upon them. She stepped out of the shadows and made her presence known. "Hi boys, can anyone join the fun?"

When they turned to face her she struck. Reaching under her cloak she pulled the first throwing dart from her vest, and sent it rocketing toward the nearest vampire. He never had a chance to move. Probably didn't know what hit him. Alex heard a soft popping sound as his body exploded into dust. She was not so lucky with the second vamp.

Both girls screamed again as the demon advanced. "Tom?" It cried. Yellow eyes and a mouthful of fanged teeth began to bear down on Alex "You killed my brother!"

He swung his fist and Alex easily maneuvered out of reach. When he swung again she grabbed his wrist with her left hand while reaching for his shoulder with her right. Then she pushed down on his shoulder with her right hand while rotating his arm backwards and up. There was a soft popping noise and the vampire screamed in pain.

Alex finished the motion by dipping her upper body down and over the vamp's arm. She heard the cartilage in his shoulder snap when it dislocated from his body. He screamed again and then a third time as her right foot arched over her back and firmly connected with his face.

Keeping a firm grasp on his wrist, Alex pivoted to an upright position and jerked his body forward, ripping his shoulder in the opposite direction. The demon's final scream of pain was abruptly silenced when Alex sank a wooden stake deep into his chest.

"That was too easy." She said when the dust had settled.

The two frightened girls were cowering in the corner. Knowing they couldn't see her face under the cloak, Alex spoke directly to them. "Go home." She said firmly. "And stay off the streets at night." With a brisk stride she walked out the barn door. If she was very lucky she might get to make another kill on her way home.

**Excerpts from Alex's Journal – September 1881 (Day 11) **

_Daybreak –_

_Two good kills last night. I think the vamps were (big stress on the past tense) Tom and Frank McLaury, who would have both been killed in the O.K. Corral gunfight on the 26__th__ of October. Obviously, the timeline is totally buggered, and there's not much I can do about it now. I will have to worry about the outcome of these events later. _

_I have more confessing to do first…_

_I guess now is a good time to mention I performed a small healing last night. I am referring to Doc Holliday of course, but the incident was really my fault. Johnny Ringo, of all people, showed up at the kitchen door last tonight. I offered him some dinner thinking it would be a good idea to question him about his friends and their whereabouts. In the middle of our visit Doc walks in the kitchen. Johnny Ringo was drunk and so was Doc. Did I mention these two men don't get along? _

_An unspoken challenge was issued. I fully believe they would have fired at each other regardless of where they were and who was sitting by trying to drink her tea. I pleaded for Doc to keep a level head. My plea didn't fall on deaf ears, but it was Johnny Ringo who was man enough to back down. He thanked me for the meal, said he was leaving town in the morning, and walked out the door. _

_Every western scholar knows John Henry Holliday's temper is legendary, and unfortunately I got a personal taste of it. He thought I was flirting with Ringo and justified his anger by telling me Ringo was a killer and that I was foolish to be associating with him. If you consider things from his chauvinistic viewpoint, he was right. I guess my temper got the better of me. I yelled at Doc first, angrier over the narrowly missed gunfight then his display of jealousy, when he suddenly grabbed me harder then I thought he could, considering his medical condition. He proceeded to shake me all the while yelling rather loudly. It was pretty ugly. When I slapped his face, I was sure he was going to return the favor, but the poor man was suddenly overcome by a coughing fit and began to hemorrhage. I got frightened, and feeling responsible for his attack, I did what I thought was the right thing to do; I healed his bleeding tissue, calmed his lungs and took away his pain. Doc never suspected a thing._

_This was my first healing since returning from South America and without a Guardian instructor present. All things considered, I think I did pretty well. _

_One other noteworthy item to mention, Kate Elder/Fisher, caught Doc alone in the kitchen with me. She was very upset. I hope no problems erupt from this. _


	9. Time for a Change

**CHAPTER 8 - TIME FOR A CHANGE **_(revised)_

In the thin hours of morning John Holliday was awake, not that he wanted to be. More than ever he wanted the peace he found in his dreams. He yearned for sleep; the release of his soul into total darkness, and as always he was denied. Heaven had still not heard his cry.

At the age of thirty he carried the bitterness of life that under normal circumstances would be found in the elderly. And why should he not carry it? He would never see eighty, nor would he see forty, and if God were willing he would never see thirty-five. Escape is what he needed most, what he craved like a junky looking for the next high. He wanted to flee this reality so that he could glimpse his next life, which existed only in his dreams.

Rolling onto his right side, he came face-to-face with the woman who shared his bed. Kate was fast asleep, her moist mouth was parted slightly, one hand curled and tucked under her chin. Peace and serenity were etched into her face, and for one solid moment he hated her. Hate was a sensation he knew well. Almost every hour of his morbid existence he could feel it burning painfully within his chest. It was an affliction that outshone the day-to-day torment of his quickly decaying lungs.

Kate's peaceful rest was ironic for he had indirectly given her the thing he sought. She had no worries, no tribulations to distract her from finding joy in life. In fact, she had everything she could want: shelter, food, clothing, money to spend and he had given her all of it. She even had her health. Yes, Kate slept in the arms of peace, while he tossed and turned most nights wishing she would just once wake and offer him some words of comfort.

Doc turned away from her and swallowed hard the taste of bile in his mouth. He fought and overcame the irrational urge to rise from his bed, grab his nickel-plated revolver and shoot his lover in the face.

Quietly, he rose from the bed and suppressed a shutter when his bare feet touched the cold-wooden floor. It was only September, yet the early morning air was foreshadowing the coldness of the coming winter. Donning his silk robe, he made his way to room's only upholstered chair and eased his thin frame down into the worn fabric, stretching his long legs over the matching ottoman. Reaching for his tin of tobacco, he rolled a smoke and prepared to wait for the sun to rise.

Since coming to Tombstone, he had often spent many hours in repose waiting for many things: the sun to shine, Kate to wake up and ask about going to breakfast, or for Wyatt to come calling, but mostly he waited for the pain in his lungs to subside. And while he waited he would smoke and think. He supposed it was during such times his best ideas and insight into life's mysteries would float through his consciousness; glimpses of other people's problems he considered far inferior to his own. Wyatt had commented many times about his wisdom, but Doc never felt any smarter then the Earps or for that matter anyone else. He just thought about life more then other people. Perhaps because he was ill and slowly dying he sought to find some meaning in life and in finding it he hoped it would ease the turbulence in his soul.

A sound to his right stirred him from his thoughts. Kate had rolled over in her sleep. The covers of the bed had slipped down her shoulder exposing one ample breast to the cold morning air, and now her nipple was erect as if begging for his attention, yet he felt no desire move him. Passion that had carried him along in this relationship was gone. He realized he was sorry to see it go, but knew it would never return. Their argument last night only strengthened his resolve. It was time for an ending, and knowing Kate's temper it was sure to be a bad one.

Almost spitefully, Doc inhaled deeply on his cigarette and blew a cloud of smoke in the direction of the bed, creating a hazy picture of the sleeping woman within. His vision blurred and suddenly Kate's auburn hair turned into golden tresses. For just one moment his soul leaped for joy and his hands began to tremble. A small shake of his head cleared the mirage. He had not been thinking about Alexis, which made the sudden illusion all the more disturbing. His subconscious was betraying him, stirring up the sediment of a long ago dream he had obliterated as a youth. Any likelihood of hearth and home shared with a good woman crashed and burned when he walked away from his place of birth. Still, he found the idea pleasantly amusing and definitely worth dreaming about. If it were Alex instead of Kate in his bed, would he be sitting here blowing smoke in the cold morning air? His sudden erection gave him the answer. His imagination would get the best of him if he didn't check it, yet he couldn't seem to stop his hand from reaching under his robe to slowly caress the ache between his legs.

Alexis's sudden arrival in town had caused quite the stir. In the short period that she had been cooking the evening meal at the Oriental business had doubled. Doc had no doubt most of it was due to her fine culinary stills, but there was also a percentage of business from the men in town who came to stare at and try to capture the attention of the pretty blonde. Wyatt and Milt were constantly fending off questions and multiple offers to procure her personal and private attentions. Wisely, Wyatt had suppressed all inquires. If his little cook ever found out about them Doc had no doubt she would be greatly offended. Alexis was not the kind of women a man whored with; she was the kind of woman a man would marry. How he knew this he couldn't say; it was just something he felt to be true. She seemed to stand out from her surroundings, as if none of the dirt and ugliness of the town residents could affect her. Everyone seemed equal in her eyes, speaking kindly to each person with the same soft, respectful tone, whether it was the mayor of the town or a lonely dirty miner.

Doc had no doubt her conduct was a reflection of her education and proper upbringing. Having been raised in the east, he knew education and etiquette went hand-in-hand. Why, in Georgia every respectable Christian family instilled good values in their children, but here in the West things were still raw and untamed.

When he had first arrived to this feral territory he had been exhilarated by the resident's unruly nature and the rowdy environment they populated. He had still been a young man then, and the experience of an uncultured populace was overwhelming. But as he aged to manhood, and as his illness progressed, he found he missed the values of a sophisticated society.

Alexis's habit of addressing every customer in a respectable and civilized manner made him homesick for the gentle Southern manners of his beloved Georgia. He became eager to see her each night and while he played poker or worked the faro table he would strain to listen in on her conversations with patrons in the saloon. He sensed there was something pure and noble about her, almost as if she had a higher purpose. Wyatt must have noticed too because he practically strangled Behan, the County Sheriff, when he blatantly asked the cost of the Earp's new whore. Doc had thought to do more then just strangle the man, but Kate had been at his side that evening and when she flashed her eyes at him and clutched his arm in warning, he knew she was watching to see if he would jump to defend Alexis's honor. He spent the rest of the evening in a silent rage. Angry over Kate's jealousy and resentful that Wyatt was free to defend Alex when he was not. It was at that moment when he realized his relationship with Kate had run the course. It was time for some changes in his life, be they good or bad.

_Shit, my luck couldn't get much worse_, he thought bitterly. He had never asked for much, had never tried to reach beyond what his hand could comfortably grasp. The real question was how much to reach for when disappointment and grief were the two main staples in his life. He felt each occurrence to the fullest; every sharp blow to the knuckles left his soul a little more shriveled than the year before. Ironic that he should end one relationship while driven by such a small spark of hope for a better one. And that is exactly what Alexis represented – hope. A fool's dream perhaps, but he seemed unable to stop himself from picking up the jolly scepter as he prepared to dance for the queen of hearts once again. Logically, he knew it was just a matter of time before his little cook rejected his advances thus breaking his heart in the process. She would return to her world in California and he would be left alone to slowly die while struggling to understand the dark maniacal fate that had always governed his life.

"You're a damn fool, John Holliday." He mumbled while snubbing out his smoke. Rising from his chair, Doc grabbed his shaving bag and towel, and walked to the bath down the hall. He still had an erection, and once in the bathroom he brought himself to completion. Then he washed and shaved. His intent was to be fully dressed to do battle with Kate when she woke up. The five hundred dollars he won in a poker game last night would be her final payment and send-off on the noon stage.

* * *

"Alex, you have a visitor."

Late morning at the Oriental, Wyatt and Virgil had been quietly going over their earnings for the past two weeks. When Wyatt first saw the guise of the man walking through the saloon doors it took him by surprise before realizing he was probably here to see Alex. Without thinking he called out to her, only comprehending his mistake when he saw Alex's gleeful face as she ran through the kitchen door and out to dinning area of the saloon.

"Ah, hell… Alex I'm sorry, I didn't think."

Looking around the half-empty saloon, Alex was confused for a moment until she saw the solemnly dressed figure standing behind Wyatt. "Oh, I thought…"

"I'm sorry, my child," Father Patrick Martin declared as he stepped out from behind lawman; his hands gently folded across the waist of his monk's robes. "I fear my visit is not what you expected."

"Father Martin, how nice." Alex swallowed hard, quickly reined in her disappointment and did her best to greet her new friend graciously.

Her quick recovery did nothing to sooth the priest's conscience, knowing how frustrated she must be feeling inside. The fact that she still battled evil alone but was so sure her friend would shortly be arriving to help her was a tremendous source of stress for him. He worried for her safety and it was that nervous energy which drove him to the Oriental to check up on her. "Ah, the manners and poise of a queen." The priest teased. "Still, I am sorry to have disappointed you. Obviously, your "family" has not arrived yet."

The ease in which he used the coded word for Angel made her smile. "No, not yet Father, but I have hope they will be here soon."

Seizing the moment, Wyatt asked, "So, you have no idea when they will be arriving, Alex?" Over the past several days he had wanted to inquire about her family but was hesitant to press her on the issue. The effort he and his brothers had made to unravel the mystery surrounding her sudden arrival in town led them in only one direction – Alex was a runaway, most likely from an abusive husband.

"Nothing definite but they did wire me some money. Don't worry, Wyatt, you won't be burdened with me forever." Alex teased while inwardly wincing at the lies that flew so easily from her lips.

"We don't consider you a burden, Alex." Virgil quickly added before the priest got the wrong idea. "It's just that… we worry about you being here alone that's all."

"But I'm not alone. I have you, Wyatt, Morgan, Milt and Doc looking out for me. I also have my very own guardian angel." She stretched her hand out and rested it on Father Martin's arm. "I am in the best of company."

"Well, my visit is not entirely without purpose." The priest confessed. "I've come to check up on you and to see how our good law officers are treating you."

Alex smiled fondly at Wyatt before she winked at the priest and said, "Oh, its not so bad, Father Martin. They only beat me twice a day. Their kindness is more then I expected, really."

She heard Wyatt and Virgil chuckle as she linked her hand under the priest's elbow and began to walk with him towards the kitchen. "If you come this way I'll show you where they lock me up at night."

"Thanks a lot, Alex." Wyatt called to her departing form.

After she poured two cups of tea, Father Martin finally revealed the true reason for his surprise visit. "I didn't mean to alarm you Alex by coming here but I wanted to let you know Mr. Ringo has left the confines of the church." He kept his voice low, almost at a whisper so that the Earp brothers would not over hear the true purpose of his visit.

"I know," Alex nodded while mimicking the priest's tone. "He was here last night, Father, and very nearly caused a gunfight with Doc Holliday when my over protective gambler walked into my kitchen unannounced. Before he left Ringo mentioned he was going to leave town in the morning."

Father Patrick Martin looked concerned as he took another sip of his tea. "Well, now I am worried. I have not seen Mr. Ringo since late yesterday afternoon. He never came back to the church last night, Alex. Exactly what time did he visit you?"

"It was late, after I had finished serving dinner. It must have been close to eight o'clock."

"If he left town, he left without his possessions, as meager as they were."

"Bugger! This is definitely not good news." A burst of anxiety brought Alex to her feet as she considered all the implications of Ringo's disappearance. Pacing to the back door she paused to look out, as if she could spot the outlaw lingering outside of kitchen door. Finding the alley hauntingly empty, she turned away and back toward the priest sitting at her table. "I hope nothing has happened to him. Where do you suppose he might have gone?"

"Do not worry he still carries the cross you gave him."

Wincing, Alex pulled the rosary from the pocket of her dress and held it up for the priest to see.

"Oh dear." Father Martin exclaimed and quickly crossed himself.

With a huff of anxiety she flopped down into her chair. "There was nothing I could do. The fool insisted on giving it back. I tried to get him to change his mind but…." She looked at the priest helplessly.

"Perhaps he is well and fine. We must have faith. I will go back to the church and see if he doesn't return." He stood to take his leave. "Is there anything you require of me Alex? Is there anything else I can do to help?" His hand reached for hers, noting the small delicate bones in her fingers and the chapped skin from the long hours in the kitchen. Not for the first time he wondered how all this would end. How many souls would be lost before the evil was destroyed?

Alex leaned in and kissed the back of his hand in a sign of respect. "Pray for all of us Patrick. Pray hard and very, very loudly."

Smiling at her light hearted attempt at humor, he offered the only comfort he could give. "Please come to the church later and I will hear your confession. Perhaps by then I will have some good news."


	10. Mouth Full of Peas

**CHAPTER 9 – MOUTH FULL OF PEAS **_(revised)_

"Don't forget to eat your vegetables, Mr. Clanton." Alexis teased as she served the table of four.

Lately, she had noticed many of the town's regulars, like Ike Clanton and his younger brother Billy, would patronize the Oriental for drinks and dinner several times a week. It had been easy for her to strike up a cordial relationship with her dinner guests. They never gave her any trouble and always showed their best manners – as scarce as they might be – while dinning. Wyatt and Doc were not as generous in their opinions of Ike Clanton. There had been one or two incidents when the cowboy and the gambler bristled with hostility towards each other, like two junkyard dogs sniffing for a fight, but no insults were exchanged and thankfully no shots had been fired. Secretly, Alex liked Ike and his brother. The Clanton's were a close-knit family and she respected that, but her opinion of them was actually more elemental in nature – she thought Ike and Billy were interesting characters and talking with them amused her.

Tonight, the Clanton brothers were dinning with two other members of the Cowboy Gang: a man by the name of Barnes, Alex had no idea if that was his first or last name, and Billy Claiborne. So far, all four men had been peacefully enjoying their meal, but she assumed Wyatt and Doc's presence at the bar was quiet re-enforcement for anyone who might have other ideas.

After teasing Ike Clanton in a motherly tone, the weatherworn cowboy brayed loudly at her joke and smiled up at her with his mouth full of mashed potatoes. "Yes ma'am, every drop, I promise."

His three companions, quick to jump on the opportunity to tease the surely cowboy, chimed things like "Or no desert for Ike" and "You'll sit there until you finish." Common parental statements that Alex doubted were ever spoken in the Clanton household.

"What kind of desert do you have tonight, Miss Alex?" Billy Clanton asked.

Pausing from refilling Barnes's coffee cup Alex made a quick study of the young Clanton. He was all of eighteen years old. Still wet behind the ears really when she considered his wheat colored blonde hair and matching peach fuss that speckled over his chin and upper lip. And yet in this era, and more particularly in this western territory, eighteen passed for manhood. There were many boys at Billy's age that had fought in the civil war, and still more that aligned themselves with the wrong side of the law after the war was over. Armed with shotguns and six shooters, their brazen attitudes made them appear like boys, but no levelheaded lawman with an ounce of experience would ever doubt they weren't man enough to use it. "I made a very rich chocolate cake with chocolate icing, so you best eat up." Still acting the motherly roll, Alex gave a stern nod at his half-full plate causing the table of men to chuckle warmly.

"Yes ma'am." They all sang.

From their position at the bar, Doc and Wyatt watched the friendly exchange between Alex and her customers. Wyatt softly chuckled. "Christ, she'll have them eating out of her hand next."

"Let us hope that is as far as the game will go." Doc replied hotly before tossing back another shot, punctuating his remark by slamming his glass down on the bar.

From the corner of his eye Wyatt glanced at his drunken friend. Doc had been drinking heavily since noon. It was now 7 o'clock and Wyatt could tell he was just getting warmed up. The gambler's mood was dark and was quickly getting darker by the glass. The reason for his intemperate state-of-mind was obvious to Wyatt. Earlier that afternoon Doc had put his irate mistress on the noon stage. Half the town had witnessed their heated argument as Doc tossed Kate's bags to the driver and paid her fare. It wasn't the first time such an exchange had occurred, but judging from Doc's current disposition, Wyatt thought it was clearly the last time Big Nose Kate would be seen in the company of the gambling dentist. Silently, the lawman sent a prayer of thanks heavenward. He had never liked Kate much, nor did he approve of the way the whore treated his friend. Now that Doc was free from her clutches he could only hope the dentist would pursue a more amicable relationship with Alexis.

Doc signed heavily as he reached into his coat pocket for the ever-present handkerchief, quickly covering his mouth to stifle a series of wet-racking coughs. When the spasm was over, Wyatt couldn't help but see the bloodstains left behind on the white cloth of the hanky. Again, he made a close study of his friend's appearance and noticed for the first time the gray shadows that lined his eyes, pale expression and the thin delicate frame that grew more fragile by the month. _His illness is getting worse,_ Wyatt thought.

Determined to steer his friend in the right direction, he decided to kill two birds with one stone, knowing that a good home cook meal and the company of a pretty woman would do the sickest man a world of good; he broached the subject with a diplomatic twist. "Well, I'm hungry. What do you say we sample some of the evening fare, uh Doc? Alex tells me she made fried chicken, mash potatoes with gravy, and peas. Sounds good, don't you think?"

When Doc's piercing blue eyes jerked in his direction Wyatt noticed a fine layer of sweat glistening on the gambler's face; a prelude of an approaching fever. "I suppose if I refuse to eat you'll just badger me the rest of the night?" John Holliday groused.

Unmoved by the other man's cantankerous mood, Wyatt smiled slightly but in a serious voice replied, "With conviction, sir."

Doc issued an irate snort and tossed back another shot. "Well then, if that be the case you had better lead the way."

Choosing a table in the back of the room, Wyatt couldn't help but notice how Doc took the seat that gave him the better view of the room and of Alex as she worked. Soon after sitting, Alex approached the table, giving each man a gentle nod hello. "Good evening Wyatt, Doc. Are you ready to eat?"

Wyatt wasn't the only one who had noticed gambler's dark temper and drunken condition. Judging from the bottle of whiskey he brought to the table, Alex could see Doc intended to continue his binge while he ate dinner, most definitely not something she approved of.

The dentist turned gambler had been conspicuously absent since their confrontation with Kate. All morning she had patiently waited for his gentle knock on the kitchen door, hoping he would willingly explain the whore's scathing comments. Not wanting to believe Doc Holliday was a womanizer, Alex longed to hear his side of the story, but as the minutes turned into hours, her patience faded with the morning light and the silent debate transpiring inside her head began to grow stronger. _Didn't she deserve an explanation? Who were the other women, Kate spoke of? Doc was an expert card shark; perhaps he was also experienced with the ways to a woman's heart. Was she being a naïve widow by believing everything he said?_

To keep her inner dispute to a dull roar, she prepared an old fashion country dinner, halfway through pealing a mountain of potatoes reality struck and with it her temper. It didn't matter if degenerate dentist had a secret agenda or not, his romantic liaisons had no affect on her mission. Feeling calmer, Alex decided a hot bath and well-earned nap was just what the _doctor_ ordered. Snickering at her pun, she put a large kettle on the stove to boil water and went upstairs to prepare the small copper tub that Milt had placed in her room. By the time Doc was having his final knockdown-drag-out fight with Kate as he paid her stage fare Alex was fast asleep in her small bed above the saloon obvious to the disturbance in the street below.

But whatever emotional peace Alex found during her rest was soon shattered when the dinner crowd slowly filled the tables and she saw Doc's thin form sitting at the bar. Still, the dentist kept his distance; he offered her no friendly greeting as she watched glass after glass of whiskey quickly turn into a full bottle and the conflict within her mind started all over again. It was doubtful a private conversation with Doc when he was obviously so drunk would be a productive thing to do. At the moment he did not give the appearance of a reasonable man. He also looked sick; evident by his pale sweaty face, weary bloodshot eyes and wet cough that seemed more prevalent today, which was surprising considering the small healing she had performed. Even though Doc was still terminally ill, he should be feeling better not worse. Alex could only lay blame on his heavy drinking that was slowly poisoning his immune system. The man really should be in bed instead of sitting in a smoke-filled saloon halfway through his second bottle of whiskey. As she stared down at his elegant fingers wrapped firmly around a half full glass, she wondered if he would listen to her if she quietly suggested he return to the hotel to get some much-needed rest.

_He might, if I went with him. _The thought was spontaneous and yet it wasn't the first time she had pondered the idea. The room was suddenly too hot, and a small teasing ache stirred between her legs, playing havoc with her reason. Well, that would be one way of stopping his drinking binge, although resting would not be on the agenda not if she had anything to say about it.

Alex stood at the edge of the table struggling with her own demons when Doc finally turned to look her way. His greeting was not quite what she had expected. "We are not only ready to eat, Ms. Montgomery, but also wish to partake of your charms you freely give to the other patrons." He replied callously.

His expression grew ominous as he continued to look up at her, giving Alex the distinct impression he was angry with her but she had no idea why. Was he still angry at finding her alone with Johnny Ringo? But then it suddenly occurred to her that he was referring to her teasing conversation with the Clanton brothers. _Good grief, is he going to be jealous of every man I speak to?_ With effort she restrained from rolling her eyes at him, sensing it would only piss him off more. Alex glanced at Wyatt for some reassurance but he only shrugged his shoulders.

Hoping to defuse the situation with humor, she quickly leaned in to whisper in Doc's ear. "If that is your intent Mr. Holliday, then you will have to laugh at all my jokes and smile at me with a mouth full of mashed potatoes." She raised her eyes to meet his and gently placed her hand on his forearm. "Only then will I bestow my charms upon you." It was a flirtation maneuver she knew, and she had no idea what his reaction would be, but then the muscles in his arm jerk under her hand and a series of emotions flashed across his face, the prominent being astonishment, followed by desire, and then finally, sadness.

Doc had no idea why the sight of her conversing with the dinner guests had put him in such a foul mood. Of course, the vision of Ike Clanton's table manners was enough to dim the most optimistic person, but still, he had to continuously remind himself that she was only doing her job. It was the reserved and cautious way she approached his table that set him off. Did she have no smile for him? No teasing comment or fond expression to make him feel welcomed? Unexpectedly, his jealousy spiked out of control and before he could restrain his mouth, a sarcastic remark came flying out. Instantly he regretted it, but the anger inside his chest refused to give way.

With more skill than a well-schooled Southern Belle, she neutralized his fury so swiftly and easily he couldn't help but be in awe. One playful smile accompanied by the fragrant smell of her freshly washed hair when she leaned in close was enough to scatter his bad temper. One affectionate touch of her hand was enough to make him ache with longing. Quickly, he glanced away from her face and down at her hand braced on his arm before she could read his expression any further. Without thinking he rapped his fingers around her wrist and turned her hand over to inspect her palm, wanting more than anything to dip down and taste her flesh with his lips, teeth and tongue, and yet knowing full well he may never have that right.

Trapped by the soothing touch of his hand, Alex watched Doc's emotional about-face with fascination. "I promise to laugh at all your jokes, Alex." He replied in a soft, gentle voice laced with tender undertones she had never heard him use until now. "But I would much rather smile at you with a mouth full of peas. I find their color more effective, don't you?"

Slowly, he trailed one finger over the several calluses that covered her palm and fingers. His touch appeared innocent, but the effect was so very sensually Alex felt she was slowly going insane with desire. "You are very drunk Mr. Holliday," she croaked, her voice no stronger than a whisper, "but if you can manage to smile with a mouth full of peas and not spill any on your lovely shirt I will be very much impressed."

When he chuckled softly at her joke, she gently slid her hand from his embrace. He looked up at her again and she noticed his dark expression had faded leaving behind his usual smug smile. "Well then, be quick about fetching my supper or I might change my mind."

"Certainly Mr. Holliday." Glancing once more at Wyatt, his subtle nod let her know she had handled Doc's temperamental mood very well.

Quickly, Alex made her escape back to the safety of the kitchen, closing the door behind her. She wasn't certain, but she thought Doc's humor seemed to be restored. Still, the man was obviously very drunk and she had little experience dealing with intoxicated men. She couldn't remember her father or uncle ever indulging in liquor, and Malachi had been a health nut and hardly ever drank.

If gambler continued with his binge she would most certainly get her first lesson in "drunken men 101". Hopefully a good dinner would level out the alcohol in his system but if things should get out of hand she could always purge his body of alcohol with a touch of her finger. He'd be intoxicated one minute and hung over the next. _That'll fix him._ She smiled smugly to herself as she automatically began to fill one plate with chicken, potatoes and peas.

It was past time to admit that her involvement with Doc was getting to… well, involved. She was letting her emotions get in the way of the job she needed to do and if Angel were here he would be cross and tell her to not lose sight of the mission. Any further romantic overtures should be discouraged, but truthfully, she didn't want to. Actually, she wouldn't mind becoming a little more involved, for instance, between the sheets involved.

"Bugger." She muttered under her breath. "Why am I doing this to myself?"

_Because silly, you like him, and he likes you. _

On the day they met she had noticed a connection. They both have been dancing around each other since then. But is it love, lust or both? And so what if it was, she couldn't do a damn thing about it. She had a job to do and there were responsibilities that came with the job. The most important was to not disturb the timeline any more then it had been.

A sudden revelation had her pausing in the middle of spooning peas onto the plate. Maybe an intimate relationship with Doc wouldn't change the timeline. After all, there were never any historical data about his female companions other than Kate. No other documentation survived or ever existed that said otherwise. Who would be the wiser if she decided to spend some quality time with him? Then she remembered that her mission had a very strong possibility that it would end very badly...for her. It wouldn't be fair to bring any more pain into Doc's life. And speaking of life… there was no way she could form a relationship with him and not rid his body of that damn disease. Not when it would be so easy for her to make him healthy. No, she couldn't do it. John Holliday must die on November 8, 1887. History was already written, and she didn't have the strength to form an attachment with another man and watch him die as well.

What a damn dilemma. Things had definitely gotten complicated. She couldn't blame Doc for following his heart, if in fact that was what he was doing. This was all her fault. She should have discouraged him right from the being. Now things had progressed beyond flirting. He was going to make a move and do it soon.

She thought about the fight they had, and how quickly the emotional atmosphere between them had changed from hostile to sensual in just moments. If Kate hadn't walked in when she did, Alex had no doubt where events were leading – Doc was going to ask if he could take see her privately. She couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to spend an evening alone with him. Neither one of them was a stranger to romance. Doc must have guessed that she would have had lovers or even a husband at her age. So she could only surmise his goal would be to seduce her.

Just remembering the way his hands had touched her the other night, first pulling her back against his body before sliding his fingers gently down her throat caused an involuntary shudder to course through her body. Kate had been correct in her assumption; Doc had been seducing her, and doing a damn fine job at it too. But the whore's damn accusations were still unanswered. Did Doc see other women and if so, did the relationships end the way Kate had said they did? There were so many questions and still no answers. What Alex wanted more than anything was to sit and talk openly and honestly with Doc but that could never be. How could she expect him to answer her truthfully when all that she told him so far had been nothing but lies?

Frustration over her predicament suddenly peaked, leaving her feeling hopeless. "Oh, Bugger." She hissed out loud. Placing one filled plate to the side, she grabbed a clean one and began to plop spoonfuls of mash potatoes onto the white china.

"Aren't you done yet?"

Doc's sudden appearance startled her and she jumped, dropping the half-filled plate to the floor.

Spinning around to glare at him, she placed a trembling hand over her racing heart. "Sweet Jesus, Doc, didn't your mother teach you to not sneak up on women?" Stepping over the tragic remains of the previous plate, Alex reached for another one and began to fill it.

He issued a warm throaty chuckle. "Sorry, darlin. I did knock but you must have been thinking deep thoughts and didn't hear me." He strolled across the room to stand directly behind her. "Care to share those thoughts, Alex?"

The soft vibration of his voice hit her first and then she felt the warmth of his arm as it wrapped around her waist followed by the outline of his groin and thighs pressing hard against the back of her skirt. He was wonderfully erect, and apparently had no qualms about letting her know it.

The teasing ache between her legs began to throb.

His free hand came up to take the plate she was holding and placed it on the countertop. Realizing she was going to get that lesson in drunken men a little sooner then she thought, she fumbled over an excuse to stop him. "Doc, I…" she began but he quickly cut her off.

"Shhh, Alex, don't say anything." He whispered in her ear so close that his lips brushed against the shell causing the soft hairs of his mustache to flutter like many feathers erotically teasing her ear. The warmth of his breath fell across her skin, bringing with it the aroma of the whiskey he had just consumed.

Her legs threatened to buckle under the increasing chemical attraction flowing between their bodies; sexual tension radiating around them like a nuclear reactor. The moment had finally come. No more pussyfooting around the obvious; Doc was making his move, intent on breaking down her barriers with one seductive move after another until she was too weak, too filled with passion to refuse him. Like the experienced gambler he was, he had strategically maneuvered her into a corner leaving her no option but to call or fold her hand. Logically, what she should do is move beyond his reach, breaking the seductive connection he was creating, but the woman in her was enjoying the growing ache between her legs and longed to explore the sensation to the fullest.

She felt the wet trail of his lips skim down her the side of her neck, heard him inhale her scent deeply before kissing her soundly just below her ear. A small sound like the beginning of a moan escaped her lips before she could stop herself.

"I'm very drunk and shouldn't be doing this." He confessed in a soft whisper, indirectly caressing her with his hot breath against her neck, "But I can't seem to stop thinking about you." He lightly rubbed his erection against her and this time she did moan; her nipples transforming into hard peaks.

"I want to see you…alone. I know you must have questions, and I know I need to explain a few things, particularly in light of Kate's accusations last night." Once more he paused to kiss her neck before proceeding to gently suck in the same spot. "Although, it probably would be best if we met when I was more in control and less intoxicated." His arm around her waist tightened as he pressed hard against her body.

_Alone!_ Little did he know she would like nothing more than to be alone with him, secretly locked away from the rest of the world. Unable to resist his seduction, Alex let her head tip back against his shoulder. With her face nestled so close to his cheek her senses were instantly assaulted by his warm-masculine scent mixed with the rich aroma of tobacco and whiskey. She felt his hand slide up from her waist to gather her left breast in his palm; his thumb teasing, coaxing, slowly back and forth across the tip of her nipple.

The ache in her body had taken on its on persona. It wasted no time issuing orders, demanding that she turn around, take him into her arms and satisfy both their cravings. She reached back with her hand, grabbed the back of his thigh and squeezed, and was rewarded when she felt the rush of his breath against her ear as he chuckled softly in response. "I put Kate on the afternoon stage to Globe. There will no more interference from her. Say you'll see me."

Alex had been like putty in his hands until he mentioned Kate, and then she realized she had just inadvertently changed the timeline again. Reality came crashing down around her.

Doc couldn't believe his stroke of luck. It had taken almost two bottles of liquor to give him the courage to approach her. When he first walked into the kitchen, he had not planned to seduce her, but had only wanted to ask if he could see her privately. Perhaps take her for a buggy ride the next day, or to breakfast, but one look at her standing in front of the stove, covered in food stains as she prepared his dinner made him ache in ways he had never felt before.

Scenarios that were pure fantasy playfully danced in his whiskey-soaked brain, and suddenly the kitchen was no longer part of the saloon, but a room in a small house – their house – where they both lived as man and wife. His new bride was making dinner for him alone; trying her best to please him. The delusion continued as he pictured his hands caressing her, touching her, making her ache as he ached. Only then would he take her by draping her passion-filled body across the kitchen table.

His erection was beyond his control, and yet it seemed only natural to share his desire with Alex. Without thought, he found he was standing behind her, pressed against her body with an urgency he had not experienced in years. Tonight he would tell her how he felt, and if she let him, he would show her as well.

Lady Luck had joined forces with Lady Love. Amazingly, Alexis was responding to his advances, encouraging him with her soft sighs, peaked nipples, and the firm grip of her fingers. The heady perfume of her bath soap was drugging him, hypnotizing him. Euphoric warmth was beginning to spread throughout his entire body until…

He felt her body jerk and then suddenly stiffen.

"Having second thoughts?" He released her and took a step back so he could look at her face.

Closing her eyes against the approaching storm, Alex tried to steady her nerves. What she was about to do would forever end any possible romantic involvement between them, and she knew Doc would never ever forgive her.

She turned to look at the man who had silently slipped inside her heart and the sight of him almost broke her resolve. He was a beautiful, sexy, drunken mess. The finely tailored jacket that completed his outfit had been discarded, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up beyond the fine bones in his wrists in an effort to be more comfortable. Ash blonde hair, which at the beginning of the night had been carefully combed in place, was now falling forward and into his eyes. The pallor of his skin was not as ashen as it had been earlier, but was showing a faint rosy glow that Alex contributed to the large amount of liquor he had consumed. Ever patient, he waited for her to explain, staring back at her with eyes that were bright with passion but at the same time held an underling nervousness and fear of rejection. He sensed what was coming.

When had she learned to read him so well and why must his handsome face be like an open book for her eyes alone? Alex struggled silently to form the words, the sentences that would cause him the least amount of pain. Almost without thought, her hand floated toward his face, longing to be a part of the sexual charisma, danger and vulnerability that summed up John Holliday – the bad-good man. A hair's-breadth from touching his cheek she stopped and let her arm drop back to her side. At that moment she hated her life, hated her occupation, and hated what she had become.

She took a slow-deep breath, feeling at any moment she would be sick with guilt. "I'm sorry John, really I am." There were un-shed tears in her eyes as she looked away from him and returned to filling the remaining dinner plate.

Her apology was unexpected, but so was the meaning behind it. The shock of rejection rang through Doc's body before his mind fully comprehended what had just transpired. His body jerked to a stop as if he had just bumped into an invisible barrier that stood between them. Confused, angry, and hurt, he stood there stunned. _What the hell just happened?_

When Alex finished filling the plate she raised her eyes to find a stranger staring coldly at her. Gone was the casual façade he had displayed moments before, gone was the air of friendship, they had been replaced by the cool, methodical gambler. His anger-filled eyes narrowed at her as he took several steps away from the stove. "I'm afraid you've dallied too long, Ms. Montgomery. I've lost my appetite. Please except my apologies for any inconvenience my wavering palette may have cause." He presented a curt bow, turned and walked out of the kitchen.

Doc stopped at Wyatt's table long enough to pick up the bottle of whiskey and his coat that lay folded across a chair. Through clenched teeth he uttered, "Wyatt, my apologies, I find I'm not in the mood for company tonight." Then he strode out the door with a brisk walk.

Wyatt had little time to reflect on Doc's abrupt change of mood before Alex came running out of the kitchen with two plates of food. The look on her face told him all he needed to know.

"He left Alex."

He heard her curse sharply under her breath, before she tossed one plate on the table in front of him and stormed back into the kitchen with Doc's dinner still gripped in one hand. Moments later the crash of ceramic was heard over the general laughter in the saloon, and Wyatt knew a crucial event had just miscarried between his best friend and the pretty blonde who had stolen his heart.

**Excerpts from Alex's Journal – Tombstone Sept 1881 (Day 11)**

_Bad day, bad day, bad day! Can I say it any plainer? _

_Father Martin paid me a visit this afternoon and told me Johnny Ringo had disappeared. He had not returned to the church to retrieve his possessions, if indeed he was leaving town as he stated to me the night before. I am worried he has fallen prey to the dark forces that are slowly taking over this town. _

_As hard as I try, I feel like I'm letting everyone down. __Never have I felt so alone. _

_The other disaster I need to mention is my personal visit and invitation by Doc Holliday. Tonight he made his intentions known and in such a way that was extremely hard to refuse, but refuse I did. He went away very angry. I doubt he will be renewing is acquaintance with me. He is a very proud man, and tonight I hurt him. I guess he'll never know how truly sorry I am and how much I longed to be with him. _


	11. I'm Just The Cook

**Chapter 10 – I'm Just the Cook **_(revised)_

Alex took solace in the fight. Every time her fist or foot connected with a demonic face she felt a little more of her rage release but the relief was temporary. The image of Doc's face continued to resurface in her mind, it seemed impossible to push the vision away. His tear-filled eyes demanded an explanation, the indignation displayed in his posture – closed fists, tight shoulders and the clenched muscles in his jaw – would settle for nothing less than full retribution. Had her rejection been that painful? No, it was beyond hurt, beyond a lovesick heartache. The blow was mortal. Alex was certain he would hate her until his dying day. The punishment for her crime would be the constant reminder of the anguished displayed in his expression, his tears, and the slight tremor coursing through his body. The image would be looped like a video, playing forever in her memory. _You can take it back_, her conscience cried. _Go to his room, cry, and plead until he lets you in. Tell him what you really feel in your heart._ Realistically, her wants and needs carried no weight. The mission came first. The mission always came first.

On the way to the church, Alex killed two demons within the town limits, severely beating both vampires before she made the kill, but it wasn't nearly enough. Anger, disappointment, and frustration over the current events in her life had made her eager for the hunt and even more impatient to find Malachi. It was time to advance this drama.

After borrowing Father Murphy's horse, she rode to the area where she had found the button while riding with Virgil and Allie. Using that location as a reference point, she slowly expanded her search in ever-widening circles and that is when she stumbled upon the vampire blood party. Where the term _'party'_ came from Alex didn't know. It seemed more like slow torture then a party to her. The objective of such a gathering was to let the vampires feed slowly and in private. They would capture their victim, tie them up and bring them to a remote location. Over the course of several hours, sometimes days, they would bleed the victim dry. Survivors, if any, were few. It had happen only once in her career. Physically these persons could recover, but emotionally and spiritually hardly ever. They usually spent the remainder of their days in an asylum cared for by compassionate nuns who served the Guardians.

Slowly, Alex crept up to the small burning campfire where five demons lingered in a circle. Three of them she recognized as members of the Cowboys by the red sashes tied around their hips, the other two were just everyday miners. In the center were two young oriental women, bound and gagged, their meager clothing was torn in various spots, revealing the seeping wounds where the vampires had fed. Unable to call for help or flee both women appeared to be almost catatonic with fright. The whole scene pissed Alex off, but what really pushed her over the edge was the careless, blasé attitude the demons displayed. They were not the least bit worried anyone would discover them and put an end to their feasting. In horror she watched as one vamp pulled off one woman's shoe and bit into the side of her foot. _Well, tonight they were dead wrong_. Alex didn't think about her attack plan, she just attacked. Stepping out from behind a large boulder, she drew three throwing darts from her vest. Before she was completely revealed by the light from the fire she sent the wooden missiles flying.

Out of all the other weapons a Guardian had at his or her disposal, the dart was Alex's weapon of choice. This was her best technique and one she had practiced for months to perfect. She hardly ever missed. Every trainee was required to learn the art of a three-dart toss. The purpose was to send each wooden missile in a slightly different direction. When Alex sent the barbs flying, she had aimed at three of the vamps sitting side-by-side but her anger was too close to the surface, too explosive to keep her throwing hand steady. She overshot the target and only two of the demons exploded. The third dart was now sticking out of the wall of rocks alongside the third vampire's head. The monster jerked with surprise before his yellow eyes focused on her. He let loose a low hiss of anger and sprang to his feet.

"Bloody hell." Alex swore and drew her sword. From center of the campfire she could hear the women moaning in terror through their gags – a sound she tried hard to block or their pleas would only distract her.

The other two vamps were immediately on their feet. The closest managed to yell, "It's a Slayer", before he kissed the edge of her sword. Like a pair of wolves, the remaining demons separated and began to circle around her. Dropping close to the ground Alex quickly swung her free leg in an arc that sent the vamp behind her crashing to the ground. With a twist of her wrist she sent the sword sailing threw his neck.

_Four down, one to go_, she thought and stood tall, letting the black cloak flare out behind her. With a twist of her wrist, the sword in her right hand passed through the air, making several dramatic circles that were meant to intimate and confuse her opponent. Her face hidden from view, she smiled slowly when the demon glanced left and then right, looking for any avenue of escape. Alex took a single step toward him, pushing him closer to the wall of boulders that blocked his exit from behind.

The demon let loose a threatening growl. This black phantom of death stood between him and the horses; the rock wall lay at his back. He could turn tail and run but he was certain the slayer would give chase. Setting his jaw for a life or death fight, he flashed a mouthful of sharp teeth. "You're dead meat Slayer.".

Alex answered his challenge with a high kick, making a solid connection with his chin. She touched down with the same leg before she pushed off again, spun in midair and smacked him with her foot again. Her sword arm followed the path of her kick. The blade passed through his neck like a hot knife through butter, meeting no resistance from the spinal cord or vertebra, it made a clean cut, severing his head from his body. "And you're dust." She replied with satisfaction.

Several seconds passed. Alex stood erect, a dark silhouette against the fire's light, sword in hand, alert for any other form of attack. When the last particle of dust settled she felt it was safe, and sheathed her weapon. Turning, she looked toward the two women who stared at her wide-eyed seemingly more afraid of her cloaked form than the vampires who had held them captive. As she approached the victims Alex pulled down her hood, showing the women she was just a normal girl like them. From her boot she pulled a knife and cut their bounds, making a quick assessment of their wounds. Both girls were badly bitten in several places, the wounds ragged from the vampire's sharp teeth continued to bleed.

"You need medical attention." She told them, as if they would understand English. They babbled to her in Chinese, gesturing wildly at the remaining piles of dust, trading tears of fear for tears of joy.

Having only a fundamental understanding of Mandarin, just enough really to order a meal in a restaurant or ask for directions to a hotel, Alex only understood bits and pieces of their language. Their dialect and rapid speech was making it too difficult for her to decipher whole sentences. After another moment of listening to the plucky, twangy rhythm of their voices, Alex gave up completely and did her best to tell them she would take them to safety, hoping the tone and timber of her voice would let them know she meant them no harm. Thankfully, they seemed to understand and allowed her to help them mount one of horses. Taking reins in hand, she stepped into the saddle of her own horse and led the women to the only place of refuge she could think of.

Help took the form of another vampire survivor, Shen Li. The middle-aged Chinese miner lived with his wife and only daughter in a small thatched-roofed shack at the far end of town that was occupied by the Chinese immigrants who struggled to scratch out a living in the hostile western environment. As silver and gold strikes increased, animosity against the Oriental people escaladed. Almost daily, men, women and even children would be assaulted, humiliated and sometimes killed in full view of the populace. Their only crime was the color of their skin and their almond shaped eyes. The local law did nothing and because of this Alex took particular pleasure in saving the Chinese from the demons that walked the streets at night. Fortunately, Shen Li's rescue was the only incident that made it to the press.

After securing the horses, Alex knocked twice on the front door. Almost immediately, Shen Li's daughter, Sun, answered. The surprised look on the young woman's face when she recognized Alex was rapidly replaced by fear when she saw the victims dismounting from the horse. Stepping forward, Sun assisted Alex as she ushered the women inside the Li home.

The building consisted of only two rooms. Shen and his wife slept in the back room while Sun occupied a small cot placed against one wall of the main room. Shen hurried out of the back room when he heard the commotion. His wife kept a timid distance behind him, unsure what to make of the mysterious visitor with sword and dark clothing. Suddenly, Alex found herself in a whirlwind of Chinese chatter. Thankfully, Sun understood English and was able to act as an interpreter.

"Slayer, my father say he is glad to see you again."

"Hello, Sun." Alex bowed respectfully to the Li family. "Please tell your father and mother I am honored they receive me tonight. I am in desperate need of their help."

There was a brief exchange between father and daughter before Sun turned back to Alex. "Father say I am to assist you in any way you need."

"Tell your father I am very grateful. These women were attacked tonight and are badly injured." Alex replied while leading the victims to sit on a bamboo mat on the floor. "Do you think you can find them some medical attention?" Alex knelt next to the two women and began to examine their injuries, sucking in her breath softly at the ragged flesh torn by the vampire's sharp teeth. The soft light from the only oil lamp in the room was hardly adequate to medically assess their injuries and she smiled with gratitude when Mrs. Li suddenly appeared with a second lamp, placing it on a low table near the women before hurrying to the only fire in the room to pour hot water into a ceramic pot. .

"Yes, we have a good healer among our people."

"Good, good. He will be needed tonight." Alex called over her shoulder. Gently she turned one girls head to the far right, exposing a circular wound made by what could only have been a large set of upper and lower fangs. "Bloody hell." She hissed softly. There were identical wounds all over the girl's bodies, but it looked like most of the bleeding had finally stopped. The blood loss was extensive, but with the proper care and rest they should recover, physically at least, mentally was another issue. In the quiet of the Li home, both women sat in stunned silence, moving and talking very little. They clung to each other for support and comfort, which Alex considered to be a positive sign telling her they were, on some level, aware of their surroundings and each other. In the past she had seen rescued victims curl in a fetal position and remain that way permanently.

Without warning, the stress and chaos of the entire evening washed over Alex, bringing with it fatigue that stole the last of her strength. Once again, another flash of Doc's ghost sprang from her consciousness. _I hate you, _the phantom image said. With effort, Alex swallowed back her tears.

Mr. Li mumbled another question to his daughter. "Father wants to know if they were also attacked by evil spirits."

Standing back, Alex let Mrs. Li takeover as she gently cleaned the women's open wounds with a pleasant smelling bowl of hot water laced with herbs. _Lavender and aloe_, she thought while brushing a tuft of stray hair off her face. "There were five of them," she replied and watched as Sun's eyes grew wide with concern. "These poor women will be greatly affected by what happened to them tonight. Do you think you could find their families, Sun?"

Sun told her father what Alex had said and Mr. Li was now nodding in agreement. "Good. But don't venture out until morning. It's no longer safe to travel at night." She reminded them as she watched Mrs. Li pour two cups of hot tea for her guests and cut several slices of bread. The meager meal suddenly reminded Alex how simply the Li family lived.

"Here, take this money." Alex reached under her cloak and gave Sun several gold coins, a total of fifty dollars. It was all the money she had, a combination of her earnings from the Oriental and some money she had received from Father Martin. It was a small fortune in eighteen eighty-one; the equivalent of pocket change in Alex's era.

Sun eyed the large amount of money with astonishment while hesitantly holding out her palm laden with the heavy coins. "I…"

Alex reached out and folded Sun's hands around the money. "Take it, please. I won't take no for an answer."

The oriental woman looked back with tears of gratitude wetting her eyes. "Thank you, Slayer." She choked.

"Alex, Sun... my name is Alex."

"Yes, Ms. Alex." She bowed.

With the injured women safely stowed away inside the Li home, exhaustion slammed into Alex's body; making it difficult to keep her legs from buckling under the physical and emotional weight of the evening. From the corner of her eye, Doc's apparition continued to accuse her again and again and again. _I'm afraid you've dallied too long, Ms. Montgomery._ "I need to get home." She mumbled, issuing a short bow to the Li family before she walked to the door. "I'll come back with some more money. If you need anything Sun, you can find me at the Oriental saloon. Come to the kitchen by the back door."

"Do you… work there, Alex?" She stammered, unsure of Alex's actual role inside the wicked saloon.

Alex bit back a grin over Sun's confusion. "I'm just the cook, Sun."

As she rode down the street to the church she lifted the cowl back over her head. From a nearby building she heard the hushed whisper, "Look, it's the figure in black. Wonder who he saved tonight?"

By the time Father Martin's horse was safely returned to its stall, Alex was so weary she could have lay down on the dirty street and slept soundly. But she really needed to get back to her room before the sun came up making it easy for her to be seen. She walked slowly home, keeping to the shadows of the buildings to remain hidden.

The night's patrol had been successful and under normal conditions she would have felt satisfied with the results she had achieved, if not for her fight with Doc. A familiar ache was growing in her chest; a pain she had been dealing with on and off for more than a year since Malachi's death. Loss. Grief. Longing. Alex could still feel Doc's warm breath on her neck, could still hear the passion in his voice when he whispered in her ear, _I want to see you alone._

She kept telling herself she did the right thing by turning him away, that any relationship with him was out of the question, but inside she felt like she had lost something precious that could never be replaced. After tonight she doubted he would be renewing his friendship with her, and she knew she would miss everything about him – the way his light-blue eyes would follow her from across the room, that cocky grin he always wore or the way his tongue would glide over his lips after he consumed a shot of whiskey and particularly his private visits in her kitchen as she washed the dinner dishes. Alex kept asking herself how was it possible she could be so attached to a man she had only known for less than two weeks.

With a heavy heart and tired feet, she had almost made it back to the Oriental when she spotted a familiar shape sitting on the edge of the wooden sidewalk. _What the fuck?_ She thought to herself. Leaning up against the pillar with his long legs spread at an awkward angle in front was her disgruntled Romeo. As she got closer she could see he was completely intoxicated, and obviously unable to stand without assistance.

Alex paused by the corner of the barbershop, partially hidden in shadow so she would not been seen. What should she do? Doc really shouldn't see her dressed like this, and yet, it wasn't safe to leave him alone in his condition.

"Bugger." She mumbled.


	12. Is This What You Want?

**Chapter 11 – Is This What You Want?**_ (revised)_

Alexis quickly slipped off her hood and let her hair loose from the braid to flow over her shoulders, hoping Doc would be too drunk to notice she was dressed in male attire. He didn't look up as she cautiously approached but she thought she heard him mumble something about women being cold-hearted bitches.

"Hello, Doc." She said quietly.

His head bobbed up at the sound of her voice. "Kate, you goddamn dirty whore, is that you?"

After stifling a giggle at his vulgar term of endearment, Alex immediately noticed his southern accent was more pronounced then usual, but he was slurring his words so badly it hardly mattered. Sitting down on the walk next to him, she placed a gentle hand under his chin and turned his face toward her. "Look again, handsome."

Doc tipped his head back to get a better look at her, squinting until the two blurry shapes blended into one. "Why, it's my little cook. Have you come to take another bite of my pride?" He raised his hand to shake one slim finger at her. "Well, I'll be damned if you will." Boot heels slipped and slid in the muddy street as he struggled to stand but his legs refused to cooperate. Finally with a sigh he gave up and slouched over his knees again.

Unmoved by his anger, Alex reached for his hand and held it in her lap. "You're getting your nice suit dirty."

"I don't give a fuck if I do."

Frustrated and uncertain how to proceed, Alex scoffed loudly and made a close inventory of the gambler's condition. He sat slumped over, head hanging low, his free arm dangling loosely over his knee. The stiff collar of his shirt was unfastened, sticking out sharply to flap and wave with his every movement. Several top buttons on his shirt were also undone, exposing the smooth white skin of his chest that respectable society would not normally see. In the dim lamp light from the street, Alex could just make out the soft hair springing free from underneath the cotton material, making her wonder about the thickness and density of his body hair. The black Stetson hat he wore was tipped toward the back of his head. Under a wave of blonde hair that was falling over his forehead, his face was pale and covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Many hours of drinking and smoking were revealed in his red-glassy eyes, making the blue irises seem more ethereal.

"Where did you go after you walked out on me?" She suddenly blurted, surprised that the words and emotion had been lingering inside her chest all night just waiting for the moment to break free. It was a loaded question, laced with anger, and fueled by bitterness and pain. She regretted it the moment the words left her mouth.

Doc's head whipped around toward her, suddenly appearing less drunk than he was a moment before. Anger-filled eyes narrowed sharply at her. "I walked out on you for a damn good reason. Where I went is none of your fuc…" Mid-sentence he paused, and breathed deeply in an effort to calm the fury building inside his chest. "Alex, I don't like being blindsided."

"That was never my intention, John." She clarified. "I said I was sorry…"

"If I want to get abused by a woman, I'll go home to Kate, damn it." He snapped before looking away from her and down at the dirt-paved street.

In the dim streetlight she saw tears lingering in the corners of his eyes. Wearily, he reached up and rubbed his face roughly, wiping away any trace of weakness. "You kicked Kate out and sent her to Globe." She reminded him. When he scoffed loudly she tried to approach his foul mood from a different angle. "Doc, let me help you to bed. Please?"

Raunchy laughter was his immediate reply. "I seemed to remember this conversation, but with a different outcome." His cutting remark led to a series of coughing before he managed to catch his breath. "Say…" he began as a new thought occurred to him. "Why are you out at this time of night?" He made a careful study of her face and for a moment Alex was afraid he would take notice of her clothing, which would only lead to another series of questions and consequential fight. "And why do you look so damn beautiful with your hair unbound?" Before she could think to answer, he pulled his hand free from her grasp and then pushed against her shoulder. "Oh, go away Alex and stop torturing me. Can't you leave a dying man in peace?"

His confession and blunt statement took Alexis by surprise. _Is that what he thinks…I'm teasing him?_ But she had tried to stay away from him, just as much as he tried to stay away from her. Like two magnets they were being pulled together, neither of them was able to resist the attraction. She grabbed his hand back and placed a small kiss on the inside of his wrist, aching to taste so much more than that little patch of skin. For a split second, his fingers brushed against her check before she could lower his hand. "No, I guess I can't." She confessed without realizing the words were lingering on her lips.

Doc looked at her for a moment before dropping his head; surprised by her statement as much as she was. Normally, under sober conditions, he would have kept his mouth shut at this point, but whenever he was around Alex he seemed to throw caution to the wind. "I tried to stay away from you, I really did. Virgil was very insistent that I should leave you alone, but you made it so hard for me, Alex. So terribly hard." He snickered suddenly and tipped his head back and tried to focus on her face again. "Did I ever mention how you make me homesick?"

The unguarded expression in his blue eyes was startling. For the first time they were conversing openly and frankly, with no barriers or defensive walls to keep them apart, and then she realized, the man sitting next to her was the real John Holliday. The being who occupied the faro table nightly was nothing but a facade. "No, you didn't." She wasn't sure exactly what he meant but considering his current condition she wasn't going to start asking him to explain.

"Well, you do. I miss my home, Alex. I wish…well, wishing is no damn good. Wish in one hand and shit in the other and see which one gets filled first. My daddy used to say that." He laughed again and squeezed her hand tightly as if there were some secret joke between them.

"Come, Dr. Holliday, you can walk me home." She suggested, resorting to a more diplomatic means to get him off the street.

He nodded. "Fine. I will at that. If you could only give me a hand standing, I'll gladly be your escort, Ms. Montgomery."

Lifting Doc to his feet was easier than Alex thought it would be. His disease and drinking habit didn't allow him to put on much weight. The frail condition of his body reminded her of the incident in her kitchen when she first realized how very sick he was. She pulled his one arm over her shoulder and wrap her other arm around his waist, and together they walked back to the boarding house where Doc rented a room.

When she finally had him settled in bed she stayed to help him get comfortable by taking off his boots, jacket, vest, and cravat. She didn't trust herself to undress him any further, so she left his pants and shirt on. Once he was stretched out he began to cough again and Alex rushed to retrieve his hanky from the pocket of his suit coat. As she passed it to him, she made a quick note of the numerous bloodstains that speckled the white cotton cloth.

This was the first time she had ever been to his room. The twelve by fourteen foot area consisted of a double bed and small nightstand within Doc's reach, a chest of drawers on the other side of the bed, a large cedar chest that sat at the foot of the bed. In a corner was a small square table with two chairs that could be used to take meals and by the window sat one upholstered chair and ottoman. At the end of the room were French doors that led to a balcony, overlooking the street. Glancing around the meager, but comfortable setting, she was amazed at how neat everything was. _So unlike Malachi,_ she thought with some sorrow. Her late husband might have been one of the best fighters in the Guardians, but he was also a terrible slob. Doc, however, was beyond neat. The only personal items left lying out in the open on his dresser were his comb, brush and hair tonic. Next to it was a bottle of bay rum aftershave, shaving cup, straight edge razor and a large ceramic pitcher that held fresh water. Alex walked over, filled a large drinking glass and returned to sit next to him on the bed. "Here, drink some water. It will help you feel better in the morning."

"Oh? And why is that?" He asked but drank deeply from the glass anyway.

"Alcohol dehydrates the body, which is one factor that contributes to a nasty hangover."

He scoffed. "Are you a woman of medicine?"

"If only you knew." She grinned while placing the empty glass on the bedside table.

With a loud sigh, he flopped back against the bed pillows; brows pinched sharply to form a small frown as he studied her. "Why were you out tonight, Alexis?" He asked with a harsh tone, his blue eyes piercing her with sudden clarity. "Where you by chance paying a visit to the outlaw Johnny Ringo?"

Unfazed by his jealousy, she reached to sweep the hair from his face, wanting only to show him in some small way that only he held a place in her heart. "Of course not. I just went for a walk, Doc."

"Well, I don't believe you." He snapped. "All females are deceitful alley cats."

Unwilling to engage in another argument when she was too tired to fight back, Alex decided it was time for a quick exit. "It's very late and I need to get back to my room. Good night, Mr. Holliday." She started to stand when he quickly grabbed her by the wrist.

"Don't leave." He pleaded while sitting up to place his other hand on her shoulder.

"Doc, it's been a rough night, and I think we should both…." Alex was stunned when he suddenly closed the distance between them and kissed her.

For only a second she thought to push him away before she realized this is what she wanted. She couldn't willfully become romantically involved with Doc, but she could be forced, and she could be seduced. So when her shoulder and wrist began to ache from the gripping pressure of his hands she almost laughed aloud, and when he pulled hard on her wrist and hugged it close to his side so she couldn't pull away, she silently cheered. Unable to technically free herself, she let her body relax into his embrace, reaching under his arm with her free hand to grasp the back of his shirt.

For an intoxicated man he showed surprising restraint. Doc's hands might have been rough but his kiss was the exact opposite. He didn't rush her or press too firmly against her mouth. The kiss was a summons that began as a nibble, then a light teasing stoke from his tongue, followed by softly sucking against her lower lip until his full-soft lips made direct contact and began to work a slow and sensual rhythm against hers. She loved the way he rubbed his mustache against her skin, scratching her and yet caressing her at the same time. Softly, he breathed into her mouth, whispering her name, and when she called back his kiss deepened.

Doc was in no rush to taste her. His tongue gently and slowly sought hers, playing with her, teasing her to stroke him in return. When he had finally captured her interest, he began a slow, deep, rhythmic dip in and out of mouth, mimicking the act of sex. Alex's body reacted instantaneous; a pool of warmth spread down her chest and into her stomach to finally nest in the aching, wet flesh between her legs. She yearned for this man. There was no other way to describe it. It was an unbearable emptiness that left her only one course of action, one outcome.

Sensing Alex's weakening resolve, John Holliday released her wrist and shoulder, letting his hands fist into the heavy mass of her hair to pull her head back sharply so that he could continue his assault on her neck. He sucked hard against the tightly corded tendons until she moaned before biting her softly, leaving a burning wet trail across her skin. From far off Alex could hear herself whimpering and gasping as he kissed her, but she was drowning now and beyond all control.

His hands shifted again, traveling from her hair to her throat, stroking the sensitive skin with the tips of his nails, gripping her lightly as he began another eager assault on her mouth. Without thinking about the consequences of her actions, she reached for him, wrapping her one hand around the back of his neck while the other latched onto the material of his shirt and began to pull against the buttons that held it closed.

He groaned with approval, released her throat and reached under her cloak to find her breast, ready to move their lovemaking to the next level. With a jerk she woke from his spell and quickly blocked his hand, leaning back away from his embrace. The dentist was a fraction away from grabbing one of her throwing darts that were crisscrossed over the vest she wore under her coat. _Dear God,_ Alex thought, _what the hell am I doing crawling into bed with Doc Holliday still dressed in my patrolling gear? _ Bracing both hands against his chest she tried to move away but he held her too firmly. Anger, stronger than any she felt from Doc before, suddenly radiated from his body in hot waves. Reluctantly, she sought his face in the dim light of the room. Blue eyes burned as they stared back at her, obviously concerned that she had stopped their lovemaking.

"Wait." She gasped. "I think we should reconsider our situation." The sexual need racing through her body was an endless silent scream, but she had fumbled again, becoming sidetracked by her feelings, and her weak feminine needs were the corporate cause. When she squirmed again, he only increased his grip.

Doc was also fighting for control, wondering why they were once again at this impasse. Instinctively, he had sensed she needed to be firmly persuaded before she would surrender to the passion between them, and he had been correct in that assumption. Alex had been responding to him, even pushing him farther along by ripping apart the front of his shirt, and yet, here they were at a crossroad once again. Anger at her coy behavior began to build as he took in her frightened expression. What the fuck is wrong, he wanted to scream. Didn't she realize no man should ache with need like he did and not have some satisfaction? "Alex, I wish you would make up your fucking mind." He barked before giving her a sharp push off the bed. "Damn you, get out!"

Remorse over her behavior quickly set in. She had upset him yet again. Why couldn't she learn to leave this poor man alone? "Doc, please let me explain." She pleaded while sitting down next to him on the bed.

"Explain?" He snapped, giving her a twisted grin. "Tell me darlin, how do you explain this?" He grabbed her hand and placed it on the hard bulge in pants.

Alex let out a startled, "Oh!" over his vulgar gesture. Never had a man spoken to her like this. Rightfully, she should be offended, and yet, her heartbeat suddenly increased, a wave of dizziness made her vision blur, and the muscles between her legs clenched painfully. He was hard, hot and throbbing, and for a moment it was her undoing. She ached to explore him further but she realized she shouldn't, and yet her fingers continued to grip the hot mound, testing the boundary of his length, rubbing the ball of her thumb at the base of his shaft. Again, she realized he had drawn her in with his need, his seduction. Desperate to break the connection she tried to pull her hand back, but he held her firmly, refusing to release her.

Slowly, he forced her hand over the wool cloth of his finely made pants, letting her feel the length of his arousal. Unable to look away, she was memorized by the sight of his hand pressed over hers and trapped by the pleasure her touch was extracting from his body and transferring to her own. Downward their hands travel in unison, dipping between his legs before they began to make the climb upward. She felt a violent shudder course through his body, and when she glanced at his face she found his passion filled eyes watching her intently. The power he held over her was overwhelming, her head swam from the sensation, making her dizzy, breathless, and fearful. She was seconds from leaping off the bed when Doc leaned in to capture her mouth with another kiss.

"Touch me." He softly pleaded in her ear as he nibbled on the lobe.

"You are very drunk, John. I don't think we should continue this tonight." She was trembling so hard she wondered if she would be able to walk if he did agree to let her go. Gently, she pulled her hand free but before she could move away his arms wrapped around her back, restraining her again. "Please. I can't do this." She whispered, but he ignored her pleas as his lips sought the tender spot below her ear.

"You deceive yourself, Alex. I can smell your arousal." He whispered as he kissed her hard once more. "And that tells me otherwise." Then before she could respond he kissed her again.

Any resistance she had fled at the touch of his warm lips. A kiss so searing, so deep, her body vibrated on the edge of orgasm. There was no way she could win this fight. Leaning toward the table next to his bed, she pinched out the only candle that lit the room. Total darkness engulfed them. When he arms slipped away she slowly stood up next to the bed.

"Alexis?"

There was confusion in his tone, passion, anger, need, loneliness, and desperation. How could she ever walk away now? "Just a moment, John." She assured him.

When he reached for Alex again his hand met warm skin instead of her wool cloak. He let out a pent up moan as he pulled her down on the bed. Together they pulled off his remaining clothes and tossed them on the floor. Sitting astride his hips, her body quivered lightly as his tender touch explored every inch of her flesh. In the darkness, she could hear his breathing, shaky ragged gasps that had nothing to do with his consumption. When the sound began to amplify, Alex realized most of the panting was coming from her.

Now that she had completely surrendered to him, a wild urgency was building and building, making it hard to control the tremble coursing up and down her limbs. Her fingers sank deep into his hair, bracing her upper body. Arching upward, she simultaneously pulled, guiding his head lower until she was able to thrust her breast into his mouth. The sensations of wet heat against her cool flesh made her cry out, pushing her to the edge of climaxing.

"Why did you put out the candle?" He mumbled against her skin before pulling her nipple deep into his mouth.

The sudden question was confusing. Words longer made any sense to her overtaxed brain. Alex tried hard to respond but only mindless sounds escaped. "Never mind." He assured her. "Whatever the reason, it's not important now."

Doc continued the exploration of Alex's body by slowly running his hands over every inch of her skin. As if he were reading brail, his fingers rubbed against her ribs, making a count of each size and shape, before traveling down to her stomach to dip his little finger in and out of her belly button. His long fingers easily circling her waist, "So little," he muttered before his investigation focused on her bottom. When his fingers delved between her legs she cried out. He lingered, stroking her, spreading her wetness until she was slick with it, touching her everywhere but where she really ached to be touched. Slipping one finger deep inside her cavity, he gave her a small sample of what was to come until she arched against him, wanting, needing more. Instinctively, she voiced her frustration, becoming aware of what she was saying only when he chuckled warmly before giving her what she wanted by circling over and around her clit with two fingers. It would be only a small reward. Too quickly his hand moved away, leaving her aching and unfulfilled.

"My hungry cook." He sang to her in a soft voice.

Alex reached for him and kissed him hard. His name was a pleading whisper, begging him to end this aching torment, but Doc refused with a soft chuckle and slow shake of his head. He wasn't ready to finish the game. There was more discovering to do first. Slowly, he massaged each and every muscle in her aching back before circling around the cords in her neck to gently ease the tension he found there.

"You're so tense. What have you been doing tonight?" He asked.

Alex couldn't help but laugh. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Someday you will tell me, but not tonight." His head dipped to taste her nipple again before pulling Alex down to rest against his side. "Let us talk about other things tonight," he continued, "but in our own language. It is an ancient and revered dialogue, spoken only among a chosen few." Doc took his position between her legs, holding his erection against her, rubbing her up and down until she couldn't stand it any more.

Raising one leg to hook over his hip, she resorted to begging. "John, please." Finally he relented, sliding into her so slowly Alex thought she had died and gone to heaven.

"Is this what you want?" Doc whispered. "Is it, Alexis?" He began to move against her creating a fiction that was both painful and beyond pleasurable. With each stroke, with each wave of pleasure, Alex's reason slipped further and further out of her reach.

"Tell me you want me, Alex. I want to hear you say it. Say you want me and only me."

Before she could answer, her world suddenly shattered into a million rays of light, and John was the nucleus of this overwhelming sensation. Desperately, she held onto him, afraid that if she let go he would abandon her and leave her unfulfilled inside this void. She cried out, a sound of passion that was his name, and then suddenly… it was gone.

Alex woke with a start. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest, her pulse raced. For a moment she was confused and didn't know where she was. Sweat covered her entire body, and the scream that she was sure she had uttered still rang in her ears. But the worst part was the terrible aching wetness between her legs. It was an unrelenting yearning that knew only one cure, and his name was John Holliday. Slowly she looked around and remembered where she was and why. She had been so exhausted after patrolling the night before she had slept at the church. There was no place she could hide. The gambler would haunt her even when she slept at the Lord's house. Alex knew then she wanted him; wanted him desperately and beyond reason, and yet their union could never be possible. There was an aching hole in her heart for a man she could never have. The realization made her eyes fill with tears as she rolled over onto her stomach, clutched the pillow and cried.


	13. Round Two, Darlin'

**Chapter 12 – Round Two, Darlin' **_(revised)**  
**_

John Henry Holliday was also having a rough morning. At the exact moment Alex had her orgasm, he woke to the first wet dream since his teenage years. He didn't have to ponder the cause. The subject matter was pretty much self-explanatory – he had been dreaming about loving Alex. The allusion refused to dissipate, playing over and over through his mind, every sound, every taste and touch was so vivid his body still pulsed with desire. Her cry of release still rang in his ears and the smell of her arousal lingered in his senses. The warm, smooth texture of her skin still vibrated under his fingertips. For a few teetering minutes he still considered slipping back into sleep hoping to continue this pleasant fantasy.

His dream-self had been relentless with her, forceful, insistent, displaying a hunger he normally kept tightly concealed. It was as if his alter ego took control, saying what he always wanted to say, touching her the way he longed too. With every stroke between her legs he had asked her – no demanded – that she tell him she wanted him. And it had been so fucking good. The best sex he had in years. He ran trembling hands through his hair. God help him, the dream had been so lifelike. Not even Kate, with her skilled hands and mouth, could milk from his body the kind of pleasure he experienced in this fantasy. There was no doubt in his mind, Alex had definitely gotten under his skin. If the thought of fucking her could make him come, he could only imagine what it would be like to experience the real thing.

"Damn you, Alexis." He said aloud.

The morning brought a sobering reality to his sluggish mind and the memory of Alex's rejection was like a fresh knife wound in his soul. Her refusal last night had taken him by complete surprise. He actually thought she would be pleased when he told her Kate was out of the way. Had he read her wrong? Was the attraction only one-sided? At the time he was spitting mad at her, and his drunken perspective made her seem like a villainess, hardhearted and cruel, disregarding the sensitivity of his feelings. But now as he hovered by the edge of his bed, hung over in the cold-morning light, he saw things differently. There had been tears in her eyes when she made her apology, and the expression on her face had been one of regret and sorrow. The question was, why? What held her back?

Sobriety also stirred his southern tenacity, and before he placed both feet on the floor he had already made up his mind to approach Alex again. If she rejected him for a second time he wouldn't walk away and hide like some heartbroken schoolboy. No sir. He would stand there and demand an explanation. Alex may have refused him yesterday but perhaps he needed to be a bit more persistent

_More persistent? Fool, you almost took her in front of the stove last night. How much more persistent could you be? _Chuckling softly, he rubbed the rough stubble of his beard and remembered with shocking clarity how the liquor made him brazen enough to actually press his erection into the soft cheek of Alex's ass. He had been very determined yesterday and very drunk too. Amazingly, Alex hadn't thrown him out for molesting her, which only supported his theory. On some subconscious level his little cook was equally attracted.

For several minutes Doc rested on the edge of his bed and coughed hard, clearing the nighttime congestion from his lungs. Finally, he spit a large bloody mass of tissue into his hanky, stared at the remnant for a moment before bursting with laughter. Now that his lungs were ripping apart from the inside, he was certain the second stage of his consumption was quickly progressing to the final stage. Clearly, he didn't have time to waste, so he might as well try to talk to Alex again. After all, what else could she say but no.

As Doc washed and shaved he thought about what suit and shirt to wear that would make the best impression on the woman he intended to spend every waking moment with until her family spirited her back home. Perhaps he would also try that new cologne he had just purchased. It just might give him an edge.

* * *

Alex spent her morning in silent prayer, knelling at the church's altar. She had refused Father Martin's offer to confess, the emotions running through her body were still too raw. There was no way she could voice her concerns to the priest.

Father Martin sensed Alex's conflicted emotions and didn't press her further. Instead, he absolved her of her sins anyway before offering her communion. He concluded the private church service with a prayer of blessing and protection on her behalf. This young woman put her life in great peril each and every evening, and under no condition would he allow her to leave the church without his blessing first. Whatever might be troubling her today would be a trifle matter compared to the guilt he would suffer if she died with out being shrived.

Alexis's arrival late last night had been unexpected, but when he saw how exhausted she was he refused to allow her to walk back to the saloon, and quickly tucked her in the spare bed Mr. Ringo had been using. She was asleep before he had removed her boots and outer garments. The vest she wore under the cloak surprised him as he inspected the multiple weapons he found there – tools she used to kill the demons that were now running rampant through the town.

Father Patrick Martin had been a priest for the past twenty years, three of those years had been spent ministering to the Tombstone citizens, but this was his first association with a Guardian. Like most priests who cared for and ran their own parish, he had received only the minimal education about the secret-elite force within the Catholic organization. He had been taught to recognize elements of evil that could arise at any moment, and he had been trusted with the secret code if he needed to call for help. But he not yet called for assistance when Alex walked into the church and showed him the symbols on her arms. He just assumed divine providence had intervened.

Her wild story made little impression; he believed every word she said. She was Guardian, and her word was almost as sacred as the Holy Father in Rome. It was not his responsibility to question her authority. His job was to support her by any means possible. However, as the days passed he was getting very alarmed about the stress she was under. Her companion had still not arrived and everyday there were new reports of murders and missing people. She needed help and quickly. After mediating on the matter during his morning prayers, he finally made up his mind to speak with her about his concerns.

He found Alex at the front of the church still kneeling in prayer. For a few moments he stood quietly at the back of the chapel and watched her, pleased by her level of devotion, but one glance at the fading morning light reminded him that time was precious. He cleared his throat to make her aware of his presence before he approached. "Alexis, I am troubled."

"Yes, Father, as am I."

When she looked up he saw her eyes were red from crying. Leaning down, he placed two fingers under her chin to better study her expression. "I can see you are troubled. Are you sure you don't want to tell me what is on your mind?"

Alex shook her head. "Not yet. Maybe after some time has passed. It is a personal matter and has nothing to do with my mission."

That meager statement told him enough. He was beginning to understand the source of her trouble. "Are your tears for a particularly well-known dentist?"

Alex couldn't help but give the wise priest a small smile. "You see a lot, Patrick."

"That's my job, Alexis. But we don't have to discuss him now if you are uncomfortable. I really came to talk with you about the business at hand." He dusted off the wooden pew and sat down, gesturing for Alex to do likewise.

"Oh?" She replied as she eased onto the bench beside him.

"I think it is time I call for additional assistance. I feel the evil in this town is too much for one Guardian to handle. You need help, Alex, and quickly before you are overcome."

She sighed and nodded in agreement. "You're right. Go and make the necessary arrangements. Ask them to send a dozen or more."

He patted her shoulder. "Do not worry my child. God has a plan for all of us and it will be revealed to us when He feels we are really to receive His instructions."

"Thank you Father." She stood up slowly feeling her knees protest against the two hours she had knelt in prayer. "I guess I'd better be going. Is there a dress here for me to wear back home? I don't want to be seen clothed like this during the day." She motioned to her leather pants and jacket she wore on patrol.

He smiled gently at her. "I believe we have a gown that will do."

Alex walked slowly down the wooden walkway on the main street of Tombstone with her arms full. In one hand she carried her patrolling clothes and gear safely stowed away in a carpetbag on loan from Father Martin. Held in the crock of her arm she carried the items she needed to make dinner that night, but at the moment dinner was the last thing on her mind. At the butcher's store she had overheard several patrons talking about the latest murders from the night before. They were gossiping about an opium den that had been attacked. All the occupants had been killed; the bodies entirely drained of blood. Her day had barely begun and already it was shot to hell. More innocents had died and she had been unable to stop it.

As the butcher cut her several pounds of beef Alex continued to eavesdrop. Each woman admitted to being frightened to the point that they intended to keep their husbands and children indoors after dark. One woman said he had had enough of Tombstone's dangerous streets and was making preparations to move back east. The plainspoken truth made Alex realized how foolish she had been. Somewhere over the last several months her hunt for Malachi had morphed from protecting the innocents to a personal vendetta. Her pride had made her blind and now innocent people were dying. Father Martin had been more than wise to ask her permission to call for assistance.

With a new perspective to guide her, Alex paid particular attention to the activity and emotions of the citizens as she slowly walked back to the Oriental. People did indeed appear scared. No one laughed or smiled. Women, who would normally stop to engage their neighbors with friendly chatter now walked quickly and kept their heads lowered to avoid making eye contact with the other people on the street.

The rocking chairs outside the barbershop stood empty and still. Every shop had their front door closed instead of the usual opened-door welcome that was standard for a small town. A thread of fear was running rampaged through the city and Alex couldn't believe she hadn't noticed it until today. _Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. _

Of course there was a probable reason why the atmosphere failed to register on her senses. In her time people often acted exactly as the Tombstone residents acted now. Everyone kept his or her doors closed and people often walked without looking anyone in the eye. The citizens of the twenty-first century were alienated from one another and she had become desensitized or maybe it was just plain ignorance. After all, she didn't know any other way to observe the world around her. Traveling back to this era had made her see what she had been missing. Now Alex knew what a fool she had been. She just hoped it wasn't too late to correct her mistake.

Alex lingered outside of the Oriental, observing the people around her, when she spied Wyatt walking with a woman who was not his wife. Shocked by the lawman's lack of discretion, Alex continued to gape at the very public display, hoping she might be forming the wrong impression. Perhaps the woman is a sister or niece; any relation would be better than watching her new friend flaunt his mistress down the main thoroughfare of town, but as Alex watched the couple it became very clear her first impression was the right one. _Oh my God, Wyatt is having an affair,_ she thought. They were arm-in-arm as they slowly strolled toward a small restaurant across the street, heads inclined towards one another as they shared an intimate discussion. Right before they disappeared inside the restaurant, she heard Wyatt laugh at something the woman said as he leaned down to place a small kiss on her cheek.

"I guess the secret is no longer much of a secret." Announced a masculine voice from behind her.

Startled by the interruption, she whipped around to find Doc standing behind her smoking a cigarette and smiling wistfully at her. Her heart leaped for joy at the sight of him while her head tried to maintain a cool and detached façade. _Is this what you want?_ The flashback was unexpected and unwelcome. Alex suppressed a shudder as a lingering image of him hovering above her, braced between her legs and those soft sensual words breathed against her skin. In the morning light the sight of him standing before her made the memory all the more real. _Yes!_ She silently screamed at the memory. _You are exactly what I want; the whole nine yards of drunken-card-playing-southern-fucking-mess. All of it._ This morning the living fantasy was superbly dressed in a dark-gray suit, white shirt, red silk vest and light gray cravat held in place by his diamond stickpin. His black hat was precariously tipped to one side, matching the cocky grin he now wore as he became more and more amused by her shameless gaping.

"See anything you like, darlin'?" The tone of his voice suggested he was barely holding his laughter in check. Secretly, Doc couldn't have been more encouraged by her initial reaction. For just a second her eyes revealed the inner delight she was feeling, laced with a strong amount of desire, and then just a quickly as it appeared she regained her composure, suppressing her inner emotions.

A very un-lady like snort was her reply before adding, "I don't know why I bother to talk to you."

The laughter he was holding back suddenly broke free. "But you weren't talking, darlin'. You were looking…" He leaned in to take her package out of her arms. "…like you saw something good to eat."

She caught a whiff of the cologne he was wearing and sharp spasm of pleasure settled in her groin. _Please, not again, _she thought. Hastily, she changed the subject before she totally lost her control. "Who was Wyatt with?"

Tucking the cigarette between his teeth, Doc graced her with an all-knowing smile. "Her name is Josephine Marcus, and yes, you are correct in your assumption, they are very much together. Just as you and I should be." Reaching out with his free hand, Doc tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, letting the back of his fingers skim gently down her cheek at the same time. Again, he saw a fleeting glimpse of passion flash across her face before she regained control. He had a strong compulsion to grab her and shake some sense into her. _Why?_ He wanted to scream. _Why are you fighting so hard to keep us apart?_ His control was shaken even more by the assault of periodic hallucinations brought on by last night's dream that kept appearing at random in his mind. Clear as day he saw the arch of her neck, the soft roundness of her breast in his hand, accompanied by the mindless sounds of her pleasure as she rocked against his hips. The imagery was almost more than he could bear.

Consciously, Alex took a step back beyond his reach, wanting only to stop him from touching her again. Another seductive caress from him would send her to tears. "I thought we had already covered this topic." She replied dryly, hoping her brisk and detached attitude would put him off, or at least piss him off. If he were mad at her he wouldn't try to seduce her again.

Unfazed by her curtness and defensive body language, Doc's smile only grew. "We have darlin'. Round one was yesterday. This is round two. Are you ready to play against me again?" He dropped his smoke and ground out the embers with the heel of his boot. Then he stepped to one side and held the door of the saloon open for her as a beaming smile lit his face.


	14. To Hell With the Consequences

**Chapter 13 – To Hell With the Consequences **_(revised)**  
**_

Annoyed by his declaration and the added anxiety it would reap on her overtaxed emotions, Alex breezed by him in a huff and went straight into the kitchen. Doc followed a pace or two behind her, either ignorant about her mental state or just uncaring. When she heard the lock engage on the kitchen door she turned around sharply prepared to protect herself from another groping session.

"Now we won't be disturbed." He announced with a complacent tone, as he placed her groceries on the table and proceeded to pull out package after package, making a close examination of every item she had purchased.

The smug look on his face only elevated Alex's temper but for the moment she was safe. Doc kept the kitchen table positioned between, creating a barrier of sorts. "What do you intend, Mr. Holliday, to molest me while I cook?" She inquired as she placed the carpetbag on the steps that led to her room.

Doc stopped nosing through her parcels and raised one mocking eyebrow at her, as a sex-driven glint crept into his eyes, matched by a half-cocked smile. "Why, Ms. Montgomery," he sang, with his soft southern accent slightly more pronounced. "Are you implying you would like me to molest you while you cook? Does cooking get you hot and do I get you very bothered?"

He held his pose, and to Alex he looked very much like a cat that is fantasying about eating the canary. The last thing she wanted to do was to encourage him by smiling, but damn it, the man made it almost impossible for her to stay angry. It suddenly occurred to her that her refusal last night had not fazed him the least little bit, and the point of his visit today was to pick up where he left off – alone together, in the kitchen, trying to fuck her in front of the stove. Alex decided it was time for the canary to get even with the cat. She flashed him her best seductive smile and with secret glee watched the impact the gesture made when he blinked with surprise, letting the smug look on his face slip away. "Hmm…." Pausing, she placed her hand against her chin and thought for a moment. "Your offer is very tempting, but it lacks a romantic atmosphere. Fortunately for you I have the very thing to correct the imbalance."

Crossing the room, she made her way to a stack of dishtowels at the end of the counter. Underneath the pile she pulled free a small cotton apron made of a delicate pink and white striped material, and trimmed on the edges with feminine pink lace. It wasn't the type of apron a woman would wear to do some serious cooking, but once the messiest part of the mean was created, this apron would be the ideal accent to serve a formal meal for one's family or even a husband's business associates. However, that wasn't the use Allie had in mind when she gave it to her. Her suggestion was to wear it during one of Doc's private visitations. Alex didn't understand the appeal until Allie explained it to her.

"Virgil goes barking mad when I wear aprons like this at dinner. The evening always begins normal enough but as the meal progresses he grows more and more impatient and by the time were done eating I usually end up wearing the apron and not much else. That's why he likes them so much."

Alex must have had a shocked look on her face because Allie laughed at her for several minutes before patting her gently on the hand. "Don't worry if Doc rips it. I have dozens more and will lend you another one." Then, as if nothing was unusual about their conversation, Allie offered her more tea.

Turning with the apron in position, Alex prepared to attack. "Observe this apron, Mr. Holliday." She paused as Doc's eyes roamed over the cloth she was molding against her body, outlining every curve, every mound. When his tongue slowly glided over his lips she hit him with another seductive smile.

"Now, I want you to try very, very hard to imagine me wearing this apron… this apron and nothing else." Doc inhaled sharply, causing his body to jerk as if she had physically hit him. Dazed from her erotic suggestion, he passed an unsteady hand slowly over his mustache. _Bull's-eye,_ she thought, pleased with the reaction she received.

"That, sir, is atmosphere." Alexis finished with a devilish gleam in her eyes, casually tossed the apron on the counter and began to calmly fill the kettle with water to heat for tea. _Well, that will teach him to mess with nineteenth century feminism. _

_Absolutely fucking amazing_, Doc thought. Alex managed to make him as hard as a rock with one damn suggestion, and then the witch let the matter drop by the wayside, as if they had just been discussing the weather rather than an afternoon of erotic sex. "Damn you, Alex." He hissed.

_Let him curse,_ she thought smugly, but her haughty attitude was abruptly shattered when Doc suddenly stepped around the table, grabbed her upper arm and jerked her around.

"Do you think I'm playing, is that it?" The burst of temper set his lungs flaring. Several coughs erupted before he could swallow and suppress the urge, determined not to relive the previous embarrassing attack he had in Alex's kitchen.

Judging from the intense glare in his blue eyes and the fluttering of alarm in her stomach, there was no doubt in Alex's mind she was in deep trouble. Why had she been naive enough to think pissing him off was a good idea? But she was not a woman who trembled whenever a man raised his voice; fighting back was part of her nature. With her free hand Alex gave his wrist an indignant shove and Doc immediately released her. "I don't really care what you think…" She snapped back before she realized that fighting with him only hurt them both. Closing her eyes, she blocked out his heated expression, and breathed deeply, silently chanting her mantra until a sense of calm was semi restored to her frayed nerves.

When she looked at him again his face was full of confusion, pain and frustration. _You don't understand,_ she thought, _and I can't explain it to you_. _What a fucking mess_. "Of course not, John." She said softly, consciously referring to his Christian name in an effort to make him feel better. "I can tell you are very sincere about your intentions and that is precisely why it unnerves me.

He blinked, and the mask of pain he wore dissipated. "I don't understand," he echoed as if her unspoken words were dangling above her head. Doc's eyes searched her face, looking for some explanation before traveling down her body. The cloth around her upper arm was creased and badly wrinkled from where he had gripped her arm. Frowning, he wondered if he left marks on her skin, and was instantly flooded with remorse over the way he had treated her. He ran his hand over the fabric, smoothing the imperfection. "I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm not normally hard-handed."

She favored him with a small smile and shrugged before looking away. "You didn't hurt me."

Mindlessly, he plucked at her sleeve. "Ah, but I think I do, even though that is not my intension. Hurting you Alexis is the last thing I would ever want to do." The moment was so quiet, so still. The nearness of her body was luring him, a silent call that he was powerless to disobey. Without thought or meaning, he was suddenly touching her again, resting his hands across her shoulders, teasing the backs of her arms, skirting his fingertips down the length of her limbs and then across her palms, before coming to rest by entwining his fingers with hers.

Alex said nothing but her physical reaction to his words, to his touch, spoke volumes. She swayed slightly, her body leaning closer to his, and he saw her eyes briefly glaze over before she lowered her lashes. At that moment he was finally sure she shared the same passionate feelings for him as he did for her. Why she was fighting against it he didn't know, but her body language fueled his confidence. He would have her – evidentially. Without worrying if it was right or wrong, Doc pulled her closer and held her, wrapping his arms across her back, molding her body against chest. He could hardly contain his excitement when her hands slid to his waist. The shape and size of her body pressed gently against his was natural symmetry. She was neither too tall nor too short. Her face nestled against his chest and slightly under his chin. They were a perfect fit. The contact set him off; he was hard again and carefully shifted his hips away from her body so she wouldn't know.

"Let's make a deal." Doc calmly offered. "I suggest we start over, slowly. I will start by taking you out to dinner."

The intimate feel of his body pressing against her instantly drained every thought from Alex's head. Before she could form the words to protest, his hands began a gentle glide up and down her back as he talked. The soothing touch was hypnotic and Alex felt her strength to resist him slowly begin to fade. She closed her eyes, breathed in his personal scent, and listened to the soft southern drawl of his voice mix with the rhythmic beat of his heart. _He's going to win. I might as well give in now, _she thought.

"We'll talk privately outside this saloon. You can ask me about anything you want, and I in turn, will inquire about your background." One hand floated up to stoke her hair, the side of her face and the sensitive skin of her neck. "Then, if you still feel comfortable in my presence, we can come back here, get that luscious apron, and go upstairs so you can model it for me." He felt her body shake with silent laughter.

"You're impossible. You know that, don't you?" She said to the folds in his jacket.

"I do indeed."

"And you'll continue to push until you get your way?"

"I always get my way, Alex. You might as well understand that now. We'll get along so much better if you do."

He felt her body rise and then fall with a heavy sigh. "All right then, I surrender. What day and time shall I expect you?"

Surprised by Alex's easy submission, Doc needed to see her face to know for certain if she really meant what she said. He placed his hand under her chin that was still nestled against his chest and tilted her face up until her light-green eyes came into view. What he saw glistening in their depths made his knees weak. Gone was any trace of her inner conflict, all that remained was acceptance, happiness, and something else that he had not seen reflected in a woman's eyes since before he left Georgia – admiration. For whatever reason, there was no doubt in his mind Alex held him in high regard. How or why he was so privileged was a complete mystery but the evidence was indisputable. For the first time in eight gruesome years he felt his heart fill with hope.

Moved beyond words, he leaned down and pressed his lips against her mouth, lightly at first, giving her the opportunity to move away if she objected, and after a moment he let the tip of his tongue glide over her bottom lip before easing into her open mouth. She tasted better than anything he had ever savored before – it was like honey, like vanilla ice cream on a hot summer day, like a three course meal after a day of fasting. It was like tasting salvation for his shriveled soul.

Alex felt as if she were reliving her dream. Doc's kiss was strangely familiar to his phantom counterpart; the only difference was that the live version was so much better. In the past she had been fortunate enough to be kissed with passion and kissed with love, but until this moment she had never experience a kiss so powerful her knees buckled. Her world tilted and to keep herself upright she slipped her hands around Doc's shoulders, knowing instinctively he would be her anchor.

Sensing her emotional shift, Doc slid his arm across her back holding her more firmly. Alex moaned her approval, prompting him to deepen the kiss. Seconds ticked by. The world as he knew it faded and all that mattered was the woman in his arms and heady feeling floating through his body. He forgot about his illness, forgot about the miserable existence he led, forgot that he was standing in a kitchen until the teakettle whistled loudly making them both jump.

Doc released her and stepped back, embarrassed that he had once again lost control, but the word "restraint" didn't seem to be part of his vocabulary whenever his little cook was around. Reluctantly, he let her go, watching her move toward the stove while he took a seat at the small table and fought against the urge to reach for her again.

Alex turned to lift the kettle off the stove, thankful that her back was turned so Doc could not see the tremor in her hands and the lustful flush on her face. As a Guardian she knew her romantic involvement with him was a direct violation of her vows, but secretly the woman in her cheered. _The hell with it_, she thought. _If there are any consequences, I'll deal with them later._

She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Do you want tea?" He was quietly rolling a cigarette, and when he glanced up at her she noticed the smug look of satisfaction had returned to his face. With effort she swallowed the sharp retort that had almost escaped her lips. _Canary versus cat – score 1 to 0, in favor of the cat. _Doc had won this battle, but Alex wondered if in the end if either of them would win the war.

"Thank you, yes."

After adding tealeaves to the pot, Alex poured two steaming cups of Earl Gray tea, added a dash of cream to both and placed the cups on the table. "Sugar?" She asked while reaching for the canister.

"No thank you, darlin, I'm sweet enough." He flashed a small crooked smile, as if bating her, before striking a match to light his smoke.

She retrieved an ashtray from a shelf and joined him at the table. He smoked. She sipped her tea. Neither of them spoke for several minutes. Alex had the distinct impression he was maintaining his silence on purpose just to keep her on edge, as if testing her in some way. The smug look on his face never faltered, and after a few more uncomfortable minutes of silence he finally laughed aloud. "You are either very stubborn or you have nerves of steel."

She smiled sweetly at him and said, "I have both, so I'm told."

"I believe you. Who did you inherit it from your mother or father?"

Her smile increased. "Oh, definitely my father."

Alex's good humor was contagious and he was soon smiling back; the self-satisfied look he usually wore was for the moment replaced by genuine pleasure. They had made tremendous progress today. Boundaries had been knocked down, and shifted. The definition of their friendship altered, he hoped, for the better, but there was something he still needed to know. A small, but very important question must be posed, and her answer would determine just how involved this new relationship would become. He glanced away from her bright eyes and down at the table to study the smoke from his cigarette for a few moments before looking back up at her. "It's a little late to be asking you this but…do you have anyone special back home?" He aimed for neutral, but his voice ended up sounding somber and uneasy. Inwardly, he winced, knowing he was revealing too much, too soon, of what he was feeling inside.

"Are you referring to a fiancé perhaps?" She replied with a hint of humor in her eyes, but the minute the words came out of her mouth she regretted them. The flash of pain in Doc's eyes made her realize her mistake. Before she could study his expression further he quickly looked away but she could see his brow crease slightly.

"Fiancé or a lover?" He clarified through a cough-laden rumble, which was quickly washed away with a sip of tea.

"No." She waited until he looked at her, wanting to see the relief on his face before she continued. "But there is something you should know, John… I was married once. He died."

He studied her with new insight. Out of all the possibilities he had imagined regarding Alex's background, widow had not been among the list. His thought processes shifted around this new data. Questions that he had previously prepared for a moment such as this were no longer applicable. "The death of a loved one is painful. You must have married young. When did your husband pass?"

Alex quickly shifted her eyes way from the concerned expression on Doc's face. "Thirteen months ago." She replied while quietly stirring her tea.

Inwardly, Doc grimaced at her 'new widow status'. _No wonder she's so hesitant to become involved romantically_, he thought, s_he's still grieving for her husband_. The concept brought a sharp wave of jealousy coursing through his body. It was irrational, unreasonable, and completely absurd, but just the idea of Alex touching or kissing another man made him boiling mad. With effort, he struggled to suppress the ridiculous rage he so badly wanted to set loose on her.

Unaware of Doc's internal dilemma, Alex continued giving him a fraction of her story, wanting only to tell him the truth no matter how brief it had to be. "You might say he is the reason I was traveling through Tombstone."

Doc inhaled deeply on his cigarette, hoping his voice wouldn't betray his emotions. "For the change of scenery?"

Keeping her eyes lowered, she shrugged. "Something like that."

Doc frowned at her vague answer and reached for his tea. "So, Montgomery is your married name?" _Christ, getting information from her is worse than pulling teeth._

"No," she replied as she looked up to study his reaction. "I decided to take my maiden name back after… well, afterwards. I thought it would be easier that way."

The crease in his brow deepened as his blue eyes narrowed at her with suspicion. "Why am I getting the impression you're holding something back?" He groused.

She gave him a small remorseful smile. "Because I am."

Her reaction to his spike in temper and demanding question was not what Doc expected. Nothing about Alex is what he expected. "And you're not going to tell me, are you?" Her answer was neither positive nor negative, she simply looked away and down at her teacup again.

He didn't have the chance to push her further. They were unexpectedly interrupted when the doorknob on the kitchen door began to rattle and shake. Virgil's gruff voice called out from the other side. "Doc, are you in there with Alex? And why is this damn door locked?"

Doc motioned for Alex to stay seated as he stood to answer the door, purposely keeping his back turned towards the table so she couldn't see how he glared at Virgil for interrupting their quiet talk. "Yes, Alex is here with me and the door was locked for privacy." As a warning, he let the tips of his fingers rest lightly against the ivory handle of his gun – a cautionary measure the lawman should recognize.

Virgil gave Doc's finger play only the briefest of glances before he stretched is neck over gambler's shoulders as he tried to see in the room. "What the hell is going on in there, Doc?" He asked with malicious intent.

"You never could take a hint." Doc grumbled under his breath. With a formal air, he stepped back and opened the door further to allow the lawman an unhindered view of the room.

Virgil sighed with relief when he saw Doc's cigarette smoldering in the ashtray, two cups of tea at opposite ends of the table and Alex fully dressed. "Oh." He mumbled uncomfortably. "Sorry Doc, for a moment there I thought…"

"Why Virgil, I didn't know your imagination was that lively." Doc quipped.

Alex snickered loudly before quickly slapping her hand over her mouth to stifle any other giggles that might slip out.

"Well, I am sorry." The lawman continued to fumble. "Look, it's been a bad morning. We've got trouble, Doc, and I need your help. For the past half hour I've been looking all over town for you. Christ, it took me almost two hours before I found Wyatt."

"What's happened Virgil?" Alex leaped up from the table and stood next to Doc, rapping her fingers tightly around his arm. A cold feeling of dread began to spread through her stomach, making feel lightheaded and weak.

Virgil's steady gaze did very little to sooth her nerves. Actually, the intense way he stared back was like an omen that only made her apprehension a lot worse. "It's bad news, Alex. Mattie's dead."

Her involuntary jerk prompted Doc to sweep his arm across her shoulders to hold her steady. "Wyatt's wife? How?" Alex gasped.

"Does Wyatt know?" Doc asked anxiously.

"Yes, he knows and he's pretty broke up about it too. Apparently, he never went home last night. This morning I found him and that Marcus woman having a cozy breakfast. Now Wyatt is just eaten up with guilt. He's over at the physician's office with the body now."

The ringing in her ears should have been a clue. If she'd been thinking straight she would have taken the nearest kitchen chair and put her head between her legs, but all she could focus on was the horrible sense of dread that was causing her arms and legs to tremble. By the time the room began to spin it was too late to take precautionary measures. "How did she die, Virgil?" It was pointless to ask; Alex already knew what the answer would be.

"Alexis, I'm not sure if you heard but Mattie had problems." Virgil rubbed an uneasy hand over his face before he continued. "She was discovered this morning at an opium den with three other victims. Their throats had been ripped out and the bodies were somehow drained of blood."

From far off Alex heard Doc call her name and Virgil's cry for Doc to catch her before her world went dark.

* * *

A cool cloth was being pressed to her forehead and it felt wonderful. Drifting around her was the heady fragrance of a man's cologne. _Someone sure smells good, _Alex thought, before she realized that someone was Doc. When Alex finally opened her eyes she got a clear view of the kitchen's grease splattered ceiling. Frowning, she realized she was lying on the floor, which almost launched the "where, why and how" questions until she remembered Virgil telling them about Mattie.

Slowly, and with Doc's steady hand behind her back, Alex sat up. "So much for my nerves of steel." She mumbled as she looked up at the two men who were anxiously squatting on the floor next to her. "What a time for me to wuss-out. I'm so sorry, Virgil." She held out her hand for Doc to help her up. Both men grabbed an arm and pulled.

"No, it's my fault, Alex. I shouldn't have blurted it out like that. It's been a very bad morning."

Doc kept a protective arm around her waist and she was glad she could lean on him for support and comfort. "Are you feeling better, darlin?"

"Yes," She nodded while smoothing her hair. "I think I'm okay now. Let's go see if Wyatt is all right." Anxious to take a look at the bodies, she started to step toward the door but was brought up short by the gambler's firm hold around her waist.

Concern was radiating from his blue eyes as he gazed down at her. "Maybe you should wait here and go upstairs to lie down for a spell?"

"No, I want to go with you." She protested in what she hoped was a convincing tone. "I promise I won't faint again." _Fine time for nineteenth century chivalry to show its face_.

Virgil shook his head. "Doc's right, Alex. You should stay here. This isn't a pretty sight, and definitely not something you women should see."

She started to protest but Doc was already pushing her in the direction of the stairs that led to her room. "I agree with Virgil. I don't want you to see this either. Stay here and rest. I'll come back directly." He placed a brotherly kiss on her forehead and gave her another push towards the stairs.

Reluctantly she obeyed, but at the first opportunity she needed to get a good look at those bodies. It was her fault Mattie was dead, but things would get a lot worse if she didn't make sure Mattie stayed that way.


	15. Damage Control

**Chapter 14 – Damage Control **_(revised)**  
**_

**Excerpts from Alex's Journal – September 1881 (Day 12 & 13) **

_If I had been more prudent in my timing, I would not be making this journal entry now. My ego and pride would not allow me to ask for assistance from the Guardians of this era and as a result four more innocents have died. Among the dead was Wyatt Earp's common-law wife, Mattie, formal name Celia Ann Blaylock. I had only met her once while visiting Allie and was unable to form more than a fundamental opinion. She seemed like a quiet and shy creature, soft spoken with long blonde hair and large expressive hazel eyes. _

_If memory serves, Mattie Earp was not supposed die until several years after she leaves Tombstone. I think the year was 1888. She develops a drug addition to laudanum while living in Tombstone. After Wyatt leaves her for Josephine Marcus, Mattie continues her habit and dies of a drug overdose. But after today, history has been rewritten, yet again, and it is my fault. The others who died in the opium den were local men from town, all were single, and as far as I know, their identities are insignificant to western history. _

_After viewing the bodies, Doc and Morgan led Wyatt back to the Oriental. The best word that describes his condition is shell shock. Wide-eyed and pale, he sat in stunned silence, neither moving nor looking at anyone directly. Morgan stayed beside him after pouring his brother a large brandy. I saw Doc only briefly as I prepared the evening meal. He let me know Virgil had stayed behind to make the necessary funeral arrangements on Wyatt's behalf and then he returned to sit with Wyatt and Morgan out in the saloon. _

_The Earps are obviously a close-knit family. Doc may not be related by blood, but I can tell they definitely think of him as family. I can see now why he chose Wyatt and his brothers as his closest companions and there is no doubt in my mind that they consider him to be a valuable member of their group. I have not observed any sick form of idol worship from Doc toward Wyatt as some historians have speculated. Instead, the friendship between them goes much, much deeper. _

_The men of this era are different from what I've been exposed to. The glue that unites them is so much more than just plain friendship – there is an unspoken bond and support structure between them. When there is trouble or hardship, they unite to form a strong unit to face whatever is threatening them, whether it is building a barn, digging a well, fighting a fire, feeding the hungry, or hunting and killing whatever is perceived as a threat. It is an old code of ethics that is, in general, lacking in the men of my era. With the exception of our branches of the military I have never seen such devotion and bravery. Where and when this admirable trait was lost over the decades I don't know, but it has most definitely vanished. There may be more people coexisting together in the twenty-first century, but we are also more alienated, alone and vulnerable then the several thousands that live in the year 1881 in this makeshift town called Tombstone. _

_Right before sunset I finally managed to slip out from Doc's protective eye to do some damage control. By this time all three Earp brothers and Doc were well on their way to complete intoxication. When Doc wanted to know where I was going I said I needed to get an item at the store up the street. He wanted to come with me, and after several minutes of arguing, and my promising to come back before it got dark, I managed to convince him to stay behind. _

_All four bodies had been taken to Dr. Goodfellow's office. When I arrived I found the good doctor's office dark and empty. Entering through the back door, I quickly locked myself in before pulling out my small flashlight. Due to the nature of the injuries, each victim had been promptly prepared for burial and placed in a casket to wait for the funeral that was scheduled for the next day. Upon examination, I found evidence that these unfortunate souls had indeed falling prey to vampires. Each one had the throat viciously torn; the bite wounds fairly evident to my trained eye. _

_My task was not a pretty one. This has always been a part of my duties I would prefer not to perform. In the past Malachi or another member of our team would step up and carry out this horrific act. To me it always seemed more like desecration of the body then preventing another possible vampire from rising. Perhaps my feelings stem from the emotional trauma I suffered when my parents died. My brain understands the necessity of the act but my heart rebels against it. _

_Per regulation, I made a clean cut at the neck, severing the head from each body. Due to the nature of the injuries a white cloth was placed over the face and neck, which would hide the evidence of my actions. Into the heart of each victim I drove a thin blade of wood, pushing it well beneath the skin so it wouldn't show, and then I completed my task by placing a communion wafer over the heart. _

_I couldn't help but to linger a moment over Mattie's body. This beautiful conflicted woman had been alive just the day before. True, her troubles were over now and hopefully she is at peace. Nevertheless, I couldn't help thinking about all the things she would never ever get to do: she would never laugh again, never eat another slice of chocolate cake, buy another pretty dress, hear an orchestra play her favorite song, or enjoy the multiple shades of a sunset. Mattie Earp was dead…_

…_and it was all my fault._

_She had been dressed in a dark-blue gown, her hair curled and styled before the white cloth had been placed over her face. A corsage of white lilies had been pinned to the bodice of her dress, her hands crossed and rested gently at her waist. My tears finally fell when I noticed the small-gold band on her left hand. Before I left I knelt in prayer and promised to avenge her death. _

_I have no doubt these murders are Malachi's doing, it has all the markings of his calling card. He is letting me know he is aware I am here and that he is not happy about my recent activities. As I'd been investigating the mine sites on the edge of town, I had found evidence of resent vampire activity, such as the of remnants camp fires, drops of dried blood and makeshift sleeping chambers inside some of the mines. So these sites could no longer be used as a safe haven, I baptized the inside of each with holy water, communion wafers, and then I sprinkled the ground inside and out with mixture of lavender and sage, a natural deterrent for the undead. _

_Mattie Earp and those three other unfortunate souls had paid the price for my hindering the activity at the mine sites. I hope I am able to end Malachi's reign of evil before he takes another life._

_Note: Still no sign of Angel. Damn him, where could he be?_

**Next Morning**

_Today was bloody awful. Four funerals in one day; everyone was completely drained and exhausted after they were over. Father Martin held the service. God bless that man, he is a model priest. At the first opportunity, he let me know he had received an answer to his call for help. We are expecting Guardians to arrive within a week. Until then, I will do my best to protect and defend. _

_Doc was very sweet, and kept a watchful eye on Wyatt and a protective arm around me. After today, I guess our affection for one another will no longer be a secret. It seemed the entire town showed their support and attended the funeral at the cemetery. Even Josephine Marcus came but graciously she stood to one side, giving Wyatt a wide berth. Afterwards, there was a quiet gathering at the Oriental. Milt had closed the kitchen for the day, but several women from town brought various dishes to feed everyone. By sundown the women had returned to their homes while the men settled down for a long night of drinking. _

_I also 'retired' early anxious to get a head start on my patrol. If I find Malachi tonight one of us will meet our maker by morning. Doc walked me to my room and spent several minutes kissing me goodnight. Any restraints that had held us apart have been temporarily forgotten. Death has a way of putting life in perspective. The little things don't matter, only love exists. It is the only thing we can take with us when we leave this world. We embraced the moment, releasing some of the built-up passion between us. God help me but the man can kiss. Shamelessly, I allowed myself to bask in the emotion I've been unable to show him since we first met. If the timing had been right I've no doubt he would have been more persuasive and our 'relationship' would have advanced to the next level. But his sense of obligation would not release him and with a great deal of regret I watched him walk back down the stairs to continue his support of Wyatt and his family. _

_What is it about this man I am unable to resist? Is it the mystique that has been built up around him, or is it the man himself that attracts me? I am trespassing on forbidden territory and should be ashamed of my conduct. My attraction for Doc has changed history, yet as each day passes, I worry less and less about the consequences of my actions as I grow more concerned about leaving him behind. _


	16. A Good Woman

**Chapter 15 – A Good Woman**

Alex rose early the next day and began to straight up the saloon before Milt arrived. She washed all the dirty glasses, cleaned the ashtrays and swept the floor. Milt arrived around 8 o'clock. She could tell he had gotten very little sleep, so she offered to make him some coffee and breakfast, which he graciously accepted.

They had just sat down together to enjoy a quiet breakfast of bacon and eggs when Wyatt arrived. Alex quickly brought him some breakfast and coffee. He said he wasn't hungry but she insisted he at least eat some toast. He hardly spoke as drank his coffee and smoked his cigar even though Milt tried his best to engage in light conversation.

Her heart broke for him and the emotional conflict he must be feeling. But there was little she or Milt could say or do to ease Wyatt's pain. Unfortunately, he would have to work through his grief before he could begin to heal.

She was personally familiar with the pain of loosing a spouse. It was a gut wrenching agony that left you feeling as if a part of you died too. You were no longer a pair, a couple, or a unit, now you stood against the world alone.

She had cried for weeks after loosing Malachi. Her superiors insisted she remain at the mission under the care of the doctors and the watchful eyes of the Nuns. She didn't argue with them. She saw very little reason to return to a house filled with their possession – his possessions – it would only remind her that she would never see Malachi again. Where would she find the strength to pack up his clothing and personal possessions, she wondered? Just the thought of seeing his clothes hanging their bedroom closet would send her to tears. There were also legal matters to attend to and decisions that needed to be made, but she was paralyzed with grief, so she let the church make decisions on her behalf. Whatever they decided to do wouldn't matter to her anyway. Nothing really mattered now, her husband was dead and she felt like her soul had died with him.

So she sat and cried as she stared out the window for days on end. Empty tissue boxes piled up in her trashcan. She couldn't eat, couldn't sleep either. Her dreams constantly replayed the horrific events that led up to his death. After several terrifying nightmares she was afraid to sleep and dream of him being dragged away into the shadows screaming her name over and over again.

Her doctors became alarmed by her condition, and insisted she take some medication to help improve her state of mind, but it did very little good. She continued to sit in the same chair hour after hour, neither moving nor speaking to the Nuns who took care of her.

One Sister in particular would sit quietly nearby and read aloud passages from the bible. She took some comfort in her kindness and on one particular day as the Nun was leaving she reached out for her hand and thanked her. The Nun smiled softly and said, "Remember Alexis, whenever God closes a door, somewhere he will open a window. Look for that window and you will find peace."

The Nun had been right. God did open a window. He had altered her molecular structure. The Church called it a gift, but at first she didn't agree. After several more weeks under the tutelage of a Guardian instructor she began to see a window in her future. As she followed the path that led to that window she found a small measure of peace. However, the Nun didn't tell her that peace came with a price tag, but several months after she left the mission she found out how high a price it was when a mysterious visitor came calling at her front door.

She wished she could ease Wyatt's pain like she had eased the pain in Doc's lungs, but she couldn't. His pain was beyond her ability. He would have to work things out on his own.

She looked into his sad eyes and felt her own fill with tears. She did the only thing she could do to help him, she reached across the table and gently squeezed his hand. He acknowledged her support with a slight nod of his head and went back to smoking his cigar.

She left Milt and Wyatt to wash the dirty dishes. She still needed to plan out her dinner menu but found it was difficult keeping her mind on the common things when she was so worried what Malachi would do next.

She had searched long into the night for him but had no luck. She did manage to extinguish three other vamps she saw walking in town. Unfortunately, she had an audience when she made the kills. No doubt the newspaper would have an article about the incident. A knock on the back door stirred her from her thoughts. She turned to find Josephine Marcus at the door.

She was a young girl, about 22 years of age, very tall and slender with big brown eyes and chestnut hair. Her dress and poise suggested she came from an upper-class family.

"May I come in?" She asked timidly as she quickly looked about the kitchen for any other occupants. Her voice and manner did little to cloak the apprehension of her visit and Alex didn't have to guess why. Josie's appearance at the Oriental so soon after Mattie's death would send the self-righteous vultures in town on a gossiping spree that would last for months.

"Of course." Alex gave her a warm smile and waved her in as she quickly closed the kitche door leading to the saloon to help conceal her visit. Her quest immediately sighed with relief and offered her hand in greeting.

"We haven't met. I'm Josephine Marcus."

"Alexis Montgomery." Alex gently shook her hand. "It's nice to meet you Miss. Marcus."

She laughed softly, "Please call me Josie. I can't stand formalities."

She returned her smile. "Then I insist you call me Alex. Would you like some coffee or some breakfast perhaps?"

"No, thank you. I don't want to interrupt, but I was hoping you could tell me if Wyatt is here?"

"He is. Would you like me to get him?" Alex motioned for her to have a seat at the table.

After arranging her skirts she continued. "No, best not. I just wanted to see if…well, to see how he is. I guess you heard about Wyatt and me."

"I confess I did." Alex said sheepishly.

"Please don't feel uncomfortable. And I know I'm just awful to sneak in like this and put you in this position. It wouldn't be proper for me to be seen with him in public just yet, but I've been so worried."

"It's really not an imposition. I completely understand. I just made Wyatt some breakfast, which he didn't eat much of. He's upset and very quiet."

Her large brown eyes filled with tears. "I feel so guilty. That poor woman was being torn to pieces while Wyatt and I were at my cottage…" She paused from her story knowing that further explanation was unnecessary. It was quite obvious to Alexis how Wyatt and Josie were spending their time the night Mattie died. _No wonder Wyatt was so torn up with guilt. _

She reached for the other woman's hand hoping to comfort her in some small way. "Josie, it wasn't your fault, trust me. It was a terrible turn of fate and that's all it was, and I have a feeling that wasn't the first time Mattie paid a visit to an opium den. If Wyatt could have helped her, I'm very sure he would have. But sometimes people with problems such as Mattie's can't be saved, and the saddest truth is, it's because they don't want to be saved."

Josie nodded that she understood. She sighed loudly and blotted the corners of her eyes with a small dainty handkerchief. "Our timing is terrible.… but we're just crazy about each other. It's like I've known him all my life. We tried to stay away from each other but we were both so miserable apart. Have you ever met anyone and were immediately comfortable with that person?"

Alex smiled sadly and nodded, thinking of her newly formed relationship with Doc.

"How do you stop loving someone you shouldn't be with?" She suddenly asked, as if Alex would be able to lend her a book titled _'How to Stop Loving Your Soul Mate for Dummies'_.

"As soon as I figure that out I'll let you know." Alex mumbled.

Her eyes went wide with shock and understanding. "Surely you aren't in the same predicament, are you Alexis? I saw you and Mr. Holliday at the funeral. It's very obvious he cares a great deal for you, but that shouldn't be a problem for you. I was told he was unattached and…." Then a new thought suddenly stuck her. "Oh, dear! I just assumed you were… unmarried."

Alex laughed softly. "I am unmarried, but that doesn't mean my friendship with Doc is not without some barriers. It's too complicated to explain…" She quickly switched subjects before this cozy chat became too cozy. "You shouldn't worry anymore about your new relationship with Wyatt. He's going to need you to lean on, even if he won't admit it outright. Most likely you will have to conceal your relationship until the culprit is found, and I know he will be found. The person who killed Mattie and those other poor souls will pay for their crime."

"How can you be so sure? They're don't know who or what did this. I've heard such crazy stories. Some say it was coyotes, others say it was Indians, and then there is the rumor that something unnatural is to blame."

Alex said very firmly to her, "The person who did this will pay."

"I hope you're right." She glanced around the room again as if she just remembered where she was. Alex noticed her nervous disposition was back. "Well, I better leave before someone sees me. If you get a chance Alexis, you will you tell Wyatt I was here? Tell him… tell him I love him. Would you do that for me?"

"Of course."

"Thank you." Josie stood up from the table and Alex walked her to the back door. "It was nice to finally meet you. Wyatt has told me all about you and your adventures."

Alex laughed aloud. "Adventures? That's putting it delicately."

"I admire you. I love a good adventure myself. I hope we get a chance to meet again."

"Me too. Until then, be careful Josie. Make sure you don't venture out after dark."

"You do the same. Goodbye."

It was very late in the day before Alex got a chance to give Wyatt Josie's message. She found a moment alone with him while he sat at one of the saloon's tables. Business was back to its normal flow of men drinking and gambling away their week's pay. Wyatt chose to observe the action from a discreet distance.

Alex sat next to Wyatt to speak quietly with him about her visitor. After she had finished her tale she could tell he was embarrassed but Alex quickly put him to ease. "Wyatt I really understand. Please don't worry."

"You must think I'm a complete dog, Alex."

"No I don't. You're my friend, Wyatt. And I'm always very careful about forming relationships. I wouldn't call you a friend if you weren't a good man."

Wyatt's eyes brightened and for the first time that day he smiled. "You sound like Doc. You two are going to be quite the pair. Morgan's already making bets on when your wedding will take place?" He chuckled when she blushed.

"Oh boy, Wyatt. Doc and I are just… a little more than friends at the moment. No wedding plans trust me."

"Well, if things change, will you let me be the first to know? I could make a bundle of money if I had an inside tip. Speaking of Doc, where is he today?" Wyatt pulled out his pocket watch to check the time. "It's after 4 o'clock and I haven't seen him yet."

She leaned over his arm to look at his watch as well. "You're right. He is late today."

"I'm never late, darlin. My timing is impeccable." She turned to find he had entered the saloon through the kitchen's back door.

"Suddenly my kitchen door is very popular." She remarked to no one in particular. "How are you, Doc?"

He tipped his head at her and gave her a smooth smile. "I'm just fine Miss. Montgomery, thank you for asking." Then he turned his attention to Wyatt. "And how are you my friend? Did you get any rest…" His question was cut off by a bout of coughing.

"Not much Doc."

Alex quickly went over to the bar to get Doc his drink. From across the room she heard his coughing escalate. She turned to see if he was all right, and noticed he was very pale and sweating severely. Why had she not noticed when he first walked in?

She returned to the table with a bottle and glasses for both men, and sat next to him so she could observe him more closely. He looked sick today. He continued to cough every few moments and Alex could hear the wet congestion rattle in his lungs. She continued her observation and saw several other disturbing things.

When he turned to give her a small smile Alex saw his eyes were red and weary, and as he reached to pick up his drink his hand shook slightly. His posture was off too. Instead of sitting in the chair, Doc appeared to be leaning heavily again the arms as if he needed the support to keep him upright.

Something was terribly wrong and there was only one way to find out what it was. When he leaned against the arm of the chair again Alex reach out and placed her hand over his. He instantly entwined his fingers with hers, giving the side of her hand a gently caress with his thumb.

She reached out lightly with her mind so he wouldn't feel the connection. That was hardest part of healing someone, controlling the connection. If she wasn't careful she could unknowingly transmit her emotions onto the person she was healing, or she could unintentionally cause her patient to reveal hidden memories or emotions, which violated several ethical issues.

To lightly examine someone for the source of an illness was one thing, to heal them was another. A minor healing was a quick and easy task. She could sooth a common cold, heal a bruised knee, or close bleeding lung tissue in a matter of seconds and her patient would never suspect a thing, and Alex felt no after affects.

To heal a grave illness or injury was much, much harder. Depending on the location and number of injuries the person sustained, she would often have to lie next to them. Full body contact seemed to make her job easier. It was also extremely draining. It left her weak, and vulnerable. When she was first learning to control her new gift, she would be unable to stand on her own once the healing was completed, and would have to be carried back to her cot. After several hours of rest she would feel better.

The mental bond she created while performing a deep healing was different as well. If she desired to share her inner feelings, it could be a profound experience, for both parties. Not only would she be able to sense the other persons aches, pains and emotions, but they would also be aware of hers at that the same time. It was like crawling into the other person's skin and they into yours. It was an intimate and very sensual experience. Or, she could keep the gateway closed and they would never sense her presence. They might feel something move through them as she healed them but her private and innermost thoughts would be safely hidden.

Doc's body she had gotten to know a little, and she had found his inner feelings to be very complex. But she didn't want him to feel her poking around in his head. If that happened she would have trouble explaining her gift. Today she just wanted to see if he was sick.

She almost yelled aloud when she felt the severe amount of pain and congestion in his lungs. He was in agony and yet he sat at the table talking politely to Wyatt and was gently holding her hand as if nothing was wrong. Alex probed a little more and discovered he had a fever, and his body was weak with exhaustion. She quickly pulled back and broke the connection. Why had his tuberculosis taken such bad turn over the course of one night?

Doc quickly released her hand when he had another violent coughing spell, which he was able to bring under control with a sip of whiskey.

Wyatt had also noticed Doc condition. "I guess we all could use a little extra rest today. How about you Doc, did manage to get any sleep last night?"

Doc shook his head as he refilled his glass. "I confess Wyatt, I am a little tired. I didn't sleep well and had the craziest dreams. Must have been something I ate." He gave Alex a wink and a cocky grin.

"Oh sure, blame it on the cook." Alex retorted. "But Wyatt does have a point Doc, you are a little pale. Perhaps you should go back to the hotel and rest."

"Would you care to accompany me, Miss. Montgomery?" With silent glee he watched her face turn a beautiful shade of pink. Lately, shocking Alex into a full fledge blush was turning into an enjoyable game for him. His analogies were not only showing, they were now blatantly obvious.

It had been years since he had the experience of flirting with a respectable lady, and Alex was obviously not used to the seductive language that often took place between a mature man and woman who were of an age, and social standing to consummate their relationship. To make polite dirty-talk with an eligible female was part of the courting process, and seducing an uncooperative female was not only a challenge it was also an art form. A concept Kate had not understood. She had simply been too willing, which had, in the beginning of their relationship, soured his enthusiasm to become more acquainted with her. But Kate was a cunning whore, and a beautiful one at that. His basic lust had eventually overrun any misgivings he had about her. After he had gotten to know her better, he found her to be a good companion.

But Alex was a different story, and an entirely different type of female. He knew there was a strong attraction between them, yet she continuously kept him at arm's length. He had yet to figure out how to breach her defenses. He sighed with frustration as he watched her prepare to scold him for teasing her in front of Wyatt.

She flashed Doc a stern look. "That's not exactly what I had in mind."

"Well, I don't see why not. I've thought of little else." His rakish smile helped brighten his pale complexion a little. He reached into his pocket for his tobacco and began to roll a smoke.

Mortified, Alex glance at Wyatt to see what his reaction was to Doc's provocative suggest. She wasn't sure what to expect, but the comical expression on Wyatt's face took her by surprise.

Wyatt winked at her before adding, "Tell you what Alex, you honor my earlier request, and I'll split the profit with you 60 – 40."

She tilted her head slightly as she pretended to consider his offer. "70 – 30 split in my favor and it's a deal." She countered.

"How about 50 – 50?"

"You've got it." She held out her hand and they shook on the bet.

Doc wasn't sure what had just transpired between his best friend and the woman he was quickly growing very fond of. "I believe I have just witness a conspiracy. What is this about?"

"That's between me and Alex, Doc."

"Wyatt, I'm a possessive man. Tread with care." He lit his cigarette.

Wyatt laughed again. "I'm not worried."

"All right you two. I've had enough games, I've got work to do." She stood and walked back to the kitchen. Just before she closed the door behind her she heard Doc coughing again. She looked back at his thin, pale form, and wondered again why his illness was so much worst today then yesterday.

Doc waited until the kitchen door closed behind Alex. "Virgil has the horses ready for us, we can leave in an hour if you're ready."

Wyatt nodded. "I don't want to stir up any trouble just yet, Doc. I just want to ride out to the Clanton ranch and take a look around."

"Wyatt, I'm surprised at you." Doc replied as he fought hard against the cough threatening to erupt. "I never have to stir up trouble, it seems to find me all on its own."

Wyatt watched his friend lose another battle against the irritation in his lungs as his thin frame was shaken by a series of coughs. When he wiped his mouth with his handkerchief he left a thin red streak on the material.

Normally, Wyatt wouldn't express concern over his friend's health. Doc was a private man and revealed very little about his personal life, and he had in the past, taken great offense if someone would inquire about his health or his background. But Wyatt had never seen Doc look as sick as he did today, so he decided it was time to break protocol and risk provoking Doc's temper. "If you're not feeling well Doc, you don't have to come, Virgil, Morgan and I can handle this."

"I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine. Besides if I stay here unattended I'm sure to get into trouble… feminine trouble that is." He downed another shot of whiskey and felt immediate relief as it numbed the burning pain in his chest.

Wyatt glanced over to the kitchen door. "She's a good woman, Doc. Have you given any consideration to making her your wife?"

"Don't you mean making her a widow, Wyatt? Because my friend that is exactly what she would be, and probably very soon. Alex has already confessed to burying one husband. I don't think she deserves the pain of burying another." He coughed into his hanky again. "No Wyatt, when her family comes to fetch her home that is when our liaison will end. There is no other way it can be."

Wyatt was surprised at what Doc had just told him. "I didn't know she had been married. When did her husband die?"

"She tells me it was thirteen months ago."

Wyatt suddenly understood Alex's tearful gesture of support she showed him this afternoon. "So, you two have talked some?"

Expelling a sad sigh Doc confessed, "Unfortunately my friend, that is all we have done. Your conscience may rest easy."

A sudden wave of quilt washed over Wyatt, threatening to bring fresh tears to his eyes. He looked down and away as he admitted, "Doc, I'm the last person to preach ethics to anyone. I'm not judging you."

"I didn't think you were." Doc replied lightly. He tossed back another shot. Then he poured one for Wyatt and another for himself.

He leaned forward until he was just a few inches from Wyatt, as he continued his tone became soft but serious. "Let your conscience be at rest, Wyatt. You did all you could do for Mattie. The path she took was not your doing. She is dead now and there is no way you can fix that. Your life is leading you in a different direction and with a good woman to walk by your side. Don't let guilt ruin your chance for true happiness." Finally he sat back against his chair. "As for Mattie's murder, I will help you all I can to find the person responsible." He finished his speech by emptying his glass.

Wyatt's raised his eyes to look at Doc, clearly stunned at his friend clarity of thought. "How do you do it? How do you keep your perspective so sharp and look…" He couldn't vocalize the words he wanted to say.

With a smirk Doc finished the sentence for him. "…and look death in the face a little more clearly each day? I do it Wyatt because deep down inside I have the tiniest hope that things may turn out for the better for me. I don't know why I feel this way. Most likely I'm just delusional."

Wyatt gave Doc a sad smile. "I hope we are both right Doc."

"Well, enough philosophy. We better get going before Alex comes looking for me." He stood up slowly as a bolt of pain settled in his chest leaving him temporarily light headed. To counteract against further assaults, he withdrew a silver flask from his jacket pocket and filled it from the bottle at the table. Then he filled his shot glass one last time and emptied it. _To sustain me_ _during that bone jarring ride out to the ranch_. He hoped.

"She'll be mad when she finds you snuck out." Wyatt teased.

Doc grinned widely. "Yes, she will at that. Her temper is very… exhilarating." He unconsciously rubbed the side of his face where she had slapped him so soundly several nights ago. "I'm very eager to see what she'll do next."

* * *

After mixing up a large pot of chili to simmer on the stove, Alex went back out to the main area of the saloon to check on Doc again. She figured he would be neck deep in a card game by now and more then likely not paying attention to his health. She was just considering performing a small healing just to ease the congestion in his chest when she realized he was nowhere to be found. Wyatt was also missing and none of the other Earp brothers were present. 

A cold chill raced down her spine as she quickly made her way to the bar to find Milt.


	17. Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch

**Chapter 16 – MEANWHILE, BACK AT THE RANCH **_(revised)_

The bar was very busy, making Milt hop from one customer to the next as he tried to keep up with the multiple requests from the clientele. When he saw Alex approaching he breathed a sigh of relief. "Ms. Alex, thank God you're here. Can you give me a hand serving for a while? It seems everyone is thirsty tonight."

Alexis ignored his request as she stepped behind the bar and quietly asked, "Milt, where did Wyatt and Doc go?"

His expression of welcome rapidly faded and was replaced by an air of quilt. "Go? Oh… well… I really shouldn't say." Quickly, he turned away from the anxiety displayed in her eyes as he poured another drink.

Alex's brow furrowed as the uneasy feeling in her stomach continued to grow. Milt was obviously hiding something, but what could it be? Like a cat chasing a bug, she was forced to pace behind him as he fluttered from one customer to the next. "Please, Milt." She begged. "It's important. Please tell me where they went?"

Once more he rushed passed her to wait on customers at the other end of the bar. Alex continued to trail behind him, ignoring the greetings and questions regarding the dinner menu from the many men that hovered around the polished mahogany waiting for their beer or whiskey. "Milt… Did Virgil and Morgan go with them?"

Avoiding her gaze, he kept his back turned toward her as he filled several mugs with cold beer. "Oh, well, that's hard to say."

"You know something." She accused, feeling her temper rising, threatening to spike to dangerous levels. Alex stood on tiptoes to peer over his shoulder to get a glimpse at his face. The guilt she saw displayed there spoke louder than his meager words. "Milt, you have to trust me."

The only reply he gave her was a slight shake of his head. When he started to walk away from her for the third time her patience finally gave out. "I don't have time for this shit." She hissed under her breath before reaching over his shoulder to snatch the front of his collar, jerking his body around until he faced her. "Tell! Me! Where! They! Went! Now!"

Her strength and surprising maneuver shocked Milt, but the look on her face frightened him more. Gone was the mild, lady-like composure; in its place was a cold-fierce expression the like of which he had seen Virgil, Wyatt and Morgan wear many times as they faced a potentially dangerous situation. This was an Alexis Montgomery he had never seen until now. In a low voice he whispered. "They rode out to the Clanton ranch. Wyatt believes they might have had something to do with Mattie's murder."

_The Clantons?_ Alex's eyes went wide upon hearing Milt's news. "Does Wyatt have some viable evidence that links the Clantons to the murders?" She asked, but the bartender only shook his head, leaving her to ponder if Wyatt's actions were part of the OK Corral history or if events had shifted down a new road because Malachi had changed the timeline. Her knowledge on Wyatt Earp and the circumstances that lead up to the gunfight were based solely on what she had learned in school – data that was not always entirely correct. Alex really didn't know the lawman all that well, but until this moment she never witnessed any aspects in Wyatt's character that would indicate he was the type of man to seek out revenge. When compared to Doc's vivacious personality, Wyatt was always so calm, cool, collected, and truthfully, just a tad boring. Frantically, she tried to recall the details surrounding the gunfight but historical facts were hard to recall when the panic inside her chest was building and building. Finally, she decided that no matter what controversy that might come to the small town known as Tombstone, one thing was absolutely certain – Mattie Earp was attacked and killed by vampires, and if Wyatt suspected the Clantons were involved…

_It's a trap!_ She concluded, causing a fresh wave of anxiety to sweep through her body.

Swallowing passed the nausea that accompanied the sick feeling of dread, she squeaked, "Who went with them, Milt?" Alex already knew what the answer would be, but it was better that she know for certain rather than walk into a situation blindly. Milt hesitated, his eyes drifting away from her face. Alex twisted her wrist slightly and suddenly Milt found it was hard to breath. "I'm a determined woman, Milt. Better talk fast."

Amazingly he still vacillated, apparently weighing the pros and cons of his answer that spoke volumes about the level of fear the Earps and Doc Holliday could instill when teamed up together. "Virgil and Morgan." He finally wheezed.

"How long ago?" She demanded.

"Thirty minutes." He whispered through lips that were just starting to turn blue.

She released him, turned and walked back to the kitchen, leaving the confused bartender gasping behind her. Over her shoulder she said, "Dinner will be late tonight, Milt. Better let everyone know."

A lot can happen in thirty minutes, and as Alex sprinted up the steps to her room she could only pray she wasn't too late.

* * *

From the top of small hill, hidden by the protective cover of several closely grouped pine trees, the Earp brothers and Doc Holliday watched the cattle ranch below. The horses Virgil had rented were tethered several yards behind them for safety. Looking out over the landscape, Wyatt was thankful it was a moonless night. The dark clothing they wore would blend with the shadows of the trees, giving them perfect cover. At the bottom of the hill the Clanton property sat in eerie stillness, nearly void of all activity with the exception of two cowhands guarding the front of the house and two more standing by the barn.

"Four standing guard but there are six horses in the corral, and we've no idea how many more men are in the barn or the house, Wyatt." Morgan whispered.

Wyatt nodded but said nothing. Behind him he could hear Doc stifle another cough, causing the lawman to wince with nervous energy. For the first time that evening, Wyatt wondered how wise it had been to bring Doc along. Sound can carry on a still night like tonight. If the dentist couldn't contain his coughing he could very well give their presence away.

With a short twist of his fingers, Wyatt motioned for Virgil and Morgan to circle to the right side of the property. Wyatt would take Doc and circle to the left. On the ride out he had already made it very clear they were to just observe the activity on the ranch and not engage the Clantons in a direct fight, at least not yet. He waited until Morgan and Virgil had moved off before he and Doc proceeded in the opposite direction.

The Clanton ranch was not large, ten acres at best, which the family made good use of. There was a one-floor log home, a large barn, two corrals and a small paddock that was probably used to hold and brand the ranch animals. The family's livelihood came mostly from buying and selling cattle, sometimes sheep. At least that is what Ike Clanton claimed. Wyatt had heard other stories. The Clantons had a reputation as cattle thieves. Unfortunately, the rumors were unsubstantiated. The reason for this was simple – when cattle went missing and the town officials would investigate, the only evidence found were the dirt trails of the departing animals and the dead bodies of the ranch hands left behind. And as the saying goes, _Dead men tell no tales_.

Wyatt was not sure exactly what to look for on the ranch. The town doctor had very few ideas on what might have killed Mattie and the other occupants found at the opium den. Wyatt was suspicious of the Clantons and thought they might have several large dogs or even wolves on the grounds. This would explain the torn throats and the missing blood. It would also explain how the Clantons managed to steal cattle so easily from the local ranchers. If they had trained dogs or wolves to perform these horrific acts, he intended to put a stop to the Clantons crime spree and a bullet in each dog or wolf he found.

Doc and he stalked through the shadows for about forty yards, slipping between the trees and brush until they came upon a clear view inside the barn and two corrals. They stopped, taking cover in some low bushes to observe the activity below.

Inside the barn was a small gathering, and although the building was not well lit, Wyatt could still identify the several men inside. Squatting beside him, Wyatt heard Doc growl with irritation when he identified one member as Johnny Ringo. Accompanying the outlaw was Barnes and Billy Clanton. The three men were hovering around a cow that Wyatt supposed they were either examining or preparing to brand. There was some low laughter, and then Barnes pushed Ringo towards the cow. Their conversation was muffled, but it looked like Barnes was giving Ringo some instruction. The outlaw nodded, as if he understood, and then suddenly things became very weird. Wyatt almost yelled with fright when Ringo's face seemed to change, twisting into some kind of animal right before he grabbed the heifer and bit deeply into its neck. There was a tremendous uproar as Ringo's companions cheered their friend on while the animal screamed with pain and fright. Without taking his eyes from the terrifying scene, Wyatt reached out and latched onto Doc's arm to get his attention so they could make a quick run from this nightmare.

Doc Holliday was finding it hard to drag his eyes away from the horrifying sight. Finally, he turned to glance at Wyatt who was squatting to his left, and when he did he saw a shape emerge from behind a tree several yards away.

"Would you like to join our fun boys?" The mysterious figure asked.

The dense wooded area and the moonless night made it hard to clearly distinguish the man's identity, but Doc had no trouble recognizing the owner of the bent-tattered hat, scruffy beard, and gruff voice. Ike Clanton had somehow intercepted their surveillance and taken them both by surprise. Under normal circumstances, Doc excelled in hostile situations. Never one to back down from a fight, he willingly plowed headfirst into any confrontation, not caring if he lived or died. Tonight was no different but for two exceptions. The first was a momentary lapse of regret when an image of Alex unexpectedly floated through his mind. She appeared not as a sexual fantasy but as she was normally – wearing a dirty white apron, hair half loose from her braid, arms burdened with plates of hot food while flashing a smile that was meant only for him. Briefly, he wondered if he would ever see her again, and if he should die, would she grieve for him as she grieved for her deceased spouse. Doc's second obstacle came when the moon suddenly peaked through the low-lying clouds, dousing the landscape in soft-blue light, illuminating Ike Clanton's glowing silver eyes. A surge of terror sent Doc's heart slamming against his chest completely closing off his airway.

Wyatt turned so quickly at the sound of Ike's voice that he fell over, landing on his backside, which was fortunate because Doc had already pulled his colt from the holster and fired over Wyatt's head. The shot went wild; the soft lead plowing bark off the tree next to Ike.

Clanton laughed. "Holliday, I have just the thing you need to improve your aim." Slow and steady, he began to advance toward the two men.

Upon closure inspection, Doc could see Ike's face was severely distorted, almost animalistic. His teeth were no long human, but resembled two rows of sharp-canine fangs. Panic and disbelief triggered his lungs to release. Gasping, Doc took aim and fired again, hitting the cowboy in the upper arm this time.

The force of the bullet pushed Ike several steps backward. Almost too quickly, he regained his balance, looked calmly down at his arm, and put a finger in the newly made hole in the sleeve. Smiling, he gleamed at the two men. "That was a new shirt." His laughter rang through the night air just as the moon slipped behind the clouds, leaving Wyatt and Doc blanketed in darkness. Helplessly, Doc watched as Clanton's shadow continued to advance.

Wyatt had recovered from his shock and had finally drawn his gun. There was a fast "click, click" as both men cocked back their hammers, but just as Doc was taking aim over Wyatt's shoulder a rustling sound from directly above Ike drew his attention. Both men hesitated when a black shadow dropped down from the tree, landing behind the cowboy, merging the two dark shapes into one. The clouds parted again, and soft moonlight filtered through the trees giving Doc one last look at Ike Clanton's monstrous face. He had only a moment to wonder who or what had joined this strange scene when a whooshing sound broke the silence, closely followed by a soft pop. A split second later Doc experienced his third shock of the evening when the cowboy exploded into a column of gray ash.

When the dust settled a man dressed entirely in black stood before them. He wore a long black cloak that fell several inches below the knees. Attached was a large hood that completely concealed his face from view. The only clearly distinguishable feature was the long tapered sworn held in his right hand. Even with the ominous clothing and weapon, the figure presented no threat, standing still as a statue with only the heavy cloth of his cloak blowing gently in the evening breeze that was slowly lifting Ike Clanton's ashes into the air.

The first word that popped in Doc's head was _Reaper_, due to the resemblance of the mystical being he had seen in picture books; only this phantom appeared to be significantly smaller. The thought was ridiculous, most likely brought on by his shock. In the eight years since his initial diagnosis and consequent death sentence, he had read many books on the afterlife, and not one source ever mentioned the Grim Reaper coming to someone's rescue.

The face-off continued, neither party advancing or retreating. From a tree branch high above their heads, an owl proclaimed his message of death just as a stronger wind kicked up, taking the last of the demonic cowboy with it. Wyatt and Doc were suspended with guns held out, facing forward, cocked and ready to fire, when the apparition suddenly raised his sworn to a vertical position in front of his face, cutting the air with brisk whoosh, before letting the point fall sharply toward the ground. Doc almost laughed out loud when he realized the stranger had just performed a proper military salute.

As sudden as the figure appeared, he disappeared just as quickly. Just as the moon fell into shadow, the visitor took three brisk steps backward before turning sharply toward the right.; he faded back into the dark woods. Vainly, Doc blinked into the inky night, trying to see where their phantom savior had disappeared.

"What the fuck?" Wyatt exclaim under his breath.

"Wyatt," Doc whispered, nudging his friend on the shoulder, "we need to find Virgil and Morgan quickly." Now that the incident was over, Doc could feel the shock draw all the strength from his body. Pressing his forearm firmly across his mouth, he muffled several harsh coughs causing the pain within his chest to flare hotly.

Attracted by the sound of gunfire, the guards on the ranch ran to the edge of the corrals. The clouds parted, and moonlight beamed down over the landscape. One cowhand cried out, pointing toward the area where Doc and Wyatt were hiding and began to scurry in their direction. The lawman and gambler broke cover, running back to the area where the horses were tethered, startling Morgan and Virgil when they arrived on the scene.

"We heard shots." Virgil hissed; gun drawn and poised to fire. "What the hell happened?"

"Can't explain now." Wyatt said in a rush as he mounted his horse. "Let's just get the hell out of here and fast."

Rough coughing suddenly broke the silence. Wyatt jerked around ready to issue a sharp reprimand to the gambler before he notice Doc's pasty complexion and the small trickle of blood that was leaking from the corner of his mouth. Perched in the saddle, the gambler's body swayed from side-to-side, as if dancing to some hidden tune only he could hear.

"Doc, are you all right?" Wyatt asked as he sidestepped his horse closer.

"I think I may have overestimated my stamina tonight, Wyatt." Doc wheezed. The short run to their horses had done him in. The pain in his chest was explosive. He tried to explain further but all the murky colors of the night suddenly swirled into a dark mass and he felt his body tipped backwards in the saddle, eyes rolling upward to reveal two white slits. Hastily, Doc reached out and clutched the saddle horn before he fell as the world around him continued to spin. Leaning forward, he rested his cheek against the horse's neck, reaching out with his free hand to wrap his fingers around a large chuck of mane. _Oh, God, please don't let me fall. I won't be able to climb back on the fucking horse, _he thought.

Wyatt reached out to snatch the reins from Doc's limp fingers, rapping them firmly around his hand. "I'll guide your horse. Hang on as best you can Doc, we need to ride hard."

The four men set off at a gallop back to Tombstone, leaving the startled residents of the ranch cursing and shouting behind them.

* * *

Alex scarcely made it back to the Oriental before Wyatt. Behind the safety of her locked bedroom door she quickly changed from her dark clothing back into the dress she had been wearing. As she carefully placed her patrolling gear into the chest at the end of her bed, she berated herself over the multiple mistakes she had made recently.

She was certainly no Sherlock Holmes when it came to detective work, but she should have guessed Wyatt and Doc would be planning to investigate the members of the cowboy gang. Did she really think the famous lawman would sit around crying in his beer? The Earps and Doc Holliday were men of action, and Wyatt would naturally suspect the local outlaws and troublemakers as the possible murderers of his wife. Quiet surveillance of the suspects had been the smart thing to do. It was also something she should have thought of first.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid",Alex hissed under her breath, while tossing her remaining black glove into the chest. With a grunt of exasperation, she slammed the lid closed. Her carelessness had almost gotten Wyatt and Doc killed tonight. _Killed?_ No, Ike would not have killed them outright. He would have turned them both, leaving her to hunt and kill another man she loved.

Halfway down the stairs that led to the kitchen below, her legs suddenly gave out from under her forcing her to plop down hard on the wooden steps. _Did she just admit she was in love with Doc Holliday?_ Alex's head argued against the facts but her heart knew the truth. She had fallen in love with John, and in doing so she had totally lost focus on the mission. Raw fear over the shock of her discovery, followed by uncertainty, guilt and a hefty dose of schoolgirl giddiness threatened to morph into a first class anxiety attack. The muscles in her chest tightened, her breathing became shallow, almost painful. When dark specks appeared before her eyes, blinding her vision, Alex quickly put her head between her knees. "Oh God, what am I going to do?" She gasped.

_"Oh, for Christ's sake, Alex, get a grip!"_ Angel's voice scolded from inside her head, loud and sharp enough it was almost as if he were standing at the bottom of the staircase scowling up at her. _"Do it now or more innocent people will die!"_

The imaginary reprimand caused her to sit up too quickly and the stairwell suddenly spun around her. Reaching out, she grabbed the railing before she fell. The blood rushed back to her head, leaving her with a sharp headache. Knowing there was no time tonight for ailments, Alex closed her eyes and mentally pushed away the pain before continuing down the stairs. The answer to her dilemma was simple – she would tackle one problem at a time, the first being the hungry men waiting for dinner in the saloon. After she done serving she would go back to the Clanton ranch and finish the job.

Wyatt and Doc weren't the only ones who had seen Johnny Ringo's initiation into the world of the undead. Alex thought her heart would break in two when she saw the rugged cowboy standing in the barn. Through a warm rush of tears, she remembered his soft hazel eyes eagerly roaming over her face just days before, as well as the heady aroma of whiskey on his breath and the clean smell of soap on his skin. True, Johnny Ringo may not have been a virtuous man, and some of his activities may have been questionable, but she still had hope he would someday walk a better path.

After tonight he lay beyond all hope.

Ike Clanton's vampirism came as a complete surprise, most likely another product of her delusional state of mind, but logically it made sense. Malachi would want to recruit the Clantons because the family held significant clout in Cochise County. It seemed her husband was still besting her strategically, even in his demonic state. If she were ever going to get the upper hand she would need to devise a better tactic, one he would not be able to foresee.

Grumbling under her breath over her multiple errors, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts and decisions, Alex made her way out to the saloon to let Milt know she was ready to serve dinner now.


	18. The Meaning of it All

**Chapter 17 – The Meaning of it All**

The Earps had stopped at Fly's boarding house where Doc was renting a room to help their sick companion to bed. Once they had him comfortably settled, Virgil and Morgan took the horses back to the corral and Wyatt went to ask Dr. Goodfellow to look in on his friend.

By the time Wyatt met his brothers at the saloon, they were each enjoying a large bowl of Alex's chili and a mug cold beer. Wyatt joined them at their table still badly shaken from the night's events.

"All right Wyatt, spill it. What the hell happened back there?" Virgil asked in a hush tone. "I thought we were just going to observe, not actually engage the Clantons in gunfire."

"I know Virgil, but things suddenly got very weird."

In a low voice, Wyatt proceeded to tell his two brothers what he and Doc had seen in the barn and how Ike Clanton had approached them in the woods. "His face was just like Ringo's. Almost scared the piss out of me. I'm telling you Virgil, Doc hit him square in the arm. He never even yelled with pain. It was like the bullet didn't hurt him at all. I've never seen anything like it in my life. "

Wyatt paused in his tale to take a mouthful of Morgan's beer. He was still badly frightened and just telling the tale to Virgil and Morgan had his pulse racing again. "Doc and I prepared to shoot again when out of the trees a dark shadow dropped to the ground. I heard a whooshing sound and then… I still can't believe I saw this… Ike explodes into dust."

"What!?" What the hell are you trying to tell us Wyatt?" Virgil exclaimed rather loudly, drawing unnecessary attention to their private conversation.

Wyatt held up his hand as he tried to remind his brother to lower his voice. "I'm not making this up, Virgil. I'm telling you he turned into a pile of dust. Behind him stood the guy who's been running around town dressed in black."

Virgil and Morgan exchanged looks as they considered their brother's story.

"Did you shoot him too?" Morgan asked.

"No." Wyatt shook his head. "I thought about it though. But it seemed wrong considering he just saved Doc's ass and mine too. He was holding a sword, which I think he used to kill Ike. The son-of-bitch actually saluted us and then disappeared."

"No clue to his identity? Do you remember any discernible features?" Virgil asked.

Wyatt grew thoughtful. "None. He was dressed from head to toe in black, Virgil and it was dark out."

"Well, think Wyatt. How tall was he? Was he big? Small? Fat? There must be something? If we could find this guy we could question him and find out what he knows."

"It all happened so fast, Virg. Doc and I were pretty shook up." Virgil grunted with displeasure and leaned back in his chair.

Wyatt tried his best to replay the events in his head. What had happened tonight? Did Ike Clanton really turn into a pile of dust right in front of his eyes? Or did the moonless night play a trick on him. He turned to watch the room as he thought. Across the floor he saw Alex working hard as she served the evening meal. The tables were full. It seems everyone was hungry tonight. As soon as one man finished his meal and left an empty spot at the table another man quickly sat down and waited for Alex to serve him. She looked flustered and tired tonight. Perhaps he should speak to Milt about getting her some help in the kitchen. Doc wouldn't like it if she worked to hard and as a result got sick. Suddenly, his view of Alex was completely blocked by a large man exiting a table. Then as the man walked off he could see her again. He chuckled softly. She was such a delicate looking woman, long limbed and graceful. He could see how a rough built man would completely engulf her physique. It's a good thing Doc was not a heavily built man. If they ever managed to have a life together they would definitely make beautiful babies.

He continued to stare at the crowd of customers as they came and went from the dinning room. Alex continued to disappear and reappear as she bustled about the busy tables.

From out of the blue he realized he could remember one distinguishable trait from his dark savior. "Virgil, how tall would you say Ike Clanton was?"

Virgil shrugged. "Six feet, or maybe a little taller."

"Would you say his build was on the large size?"

"No, not large but husky. What are you getting at Wyatt?"

Wyatt shook his head. It may have looked like he was watching the saloon customers, but his mind was on something else. "I rather not say anything just yet, Virg. Let me think on this for awhile."

He quickly changed the subject before Virgil began to press for a more definitive answer. "What did you and Morgan find, Virgil?"

"Nothing. We didn't see any other activity except the two guards on the front porch. When we heard shots we ran back to the horses."

"Wyatt, what does all this mean?" Morgan asked nervously.

Wyatt slowly shook his head. "Morgan, I don't have a damn clue." The three men looked from one to another unsure what to make of the night's events.

Wyatt leaned in close to his brothers. "Maybe we shouldn't look into this too closely. Let's get the hell out of here, Virgil." Wyatt said suddenly. "We could pack up tonight and be out of town by tomorrow."

"What are you saying Wyatt? You want us to run from trouble?"

"I want us to save our families from whatever it was I witnessed tonight, Virgil. We can't fight this."

"I'm not running, Wyatt. I don't even know if I believe what you say you saw tonight."

"Truthfully Virgil, I question my own sanity. But if you don't believe me, ask Doc. He saw it too."

"I'll do that just as soon as he recovers."

"Recovers from what?" Alex had approach as they were talking. "What happened?" When Wyatt hesitated her large-green eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Wyatt, where's Doc?"

"Alex, he wasn't feeling well so I took him back to his room. Dr. Goodfellow is going to look in on him."

"Is that where you two went? Why didn't you let me know, Wyatt?"

Under her stern gaze, Wyatt caught a glimpse of the street dirty ruffian that had kicked and punched her way into their world. Obviously, she was determined to get a straight answer even if she had to smack a few heads to do it.

"Tick, tock, Wyatt."

The tone in her voice snapped him back to the present. "Oh, sorry Alex. Doc didn't want you to worry."

"And you say you called the Doctor?" She reached behind her back and began to untie the apron she wore.

"Yep, he should be there now." He had no sooner spoken the words, when she turned and walked out the front entrance of the saloon. The cotton apron now a ball of material in her hand.

"Alex wait." Wyatt called as he rushed after her. "Maybe you should let him rest."

She stopped walking when he stood in her path. "Just what do you think I would do with a sick and dying man alone in his hotel room, Wyatt? Did you think I would expect him to perform sexual gymnastics?"

"No…. I."

She tossed him the apron. "Then I suggest you get out of my way."

Surprised at her sharp anger Wyatt stood back and let her pass. He watched her walk at a quick pace in the direction of the rooming house, and that is when he noticed she was wearing masculine black boots under her dress.

The Fly family owned the rooming house where Doc lived. It was a small but clean hotel that boasted indoor plumbing. It was also situated next to the famous OK Corral where the gunfight would have taken place, but not anymore. After what she had seen tonight it was obvious that Malachi had a much different idea of how history should be played out. She had no idea what his intension were, which left a queasy, nervous feeling in her stomach.

She intended to check up on Doc, maybe spend an hour with him to make sure he was all right, and then she would ride back out to the ranch. The mess she made in the kitchen could wait. She could always clean up that up later. The Clanton ranch was her first priority. The situation was quickly growing beyond her ability to contain it. She needed to try to even the odds and hope Angel would arrive in the next day or two to help her finish the job. _Please God. Please tell him to hurry before it's too late._

She entered through the front door and went directly to a large desk in the foyer of the building. The middle age man behind the desk greeted her warmly as she approached.

"Evening Miss. Montgomery. What can I do for you tonight?"

"Good evening Mr. Fly. I would like the number of Mr. Holliday's room, please."

"Oh, well, I'm told Mr. Holliday is not feeling well." He was hesitant to allow any visitor's tonight, especially a single woman. After watching Wyatt and Morgan Earp carry Doc Holliday up to his room and then Dr. Goodfellow arrive shortly thereafter, he had a feeling Doc Holliday would not want his privacy invaded anymore then it was already. But the determined look in the young woman's face made him reconsider. As if to reinforce his opinion, he watched as her eyes narrowed with irritation.

"That is precisely why I am here. The room number, please."

"Room 7 Miss, second floor."

She turned to walk to the stairs, when he called out to her. "Since you are going up, would you take this message to Mr. Holliday. It just arrived earlier this evening by messenger."

"Certainly." She took the envelope from his hands without looking at it and placed it in the pocket of her skirt. When she reached the top of the steps she saw the doctor was just leaving Doc's room.

"Miss. Montgomery." He tipped his hat in greeting. "Are you here to look after my patient?"

"As best I can Dr. Goodfellow. How is he?"

The expression on his face became solemn and comforting at the same time. A doctor's token weapon to prepare, yet also console, family and friends as he issued bad news. "He is a very sick man Miss. Montgomery, yet he refuses to listen to a word I say. I have prescribed bed rest, for at least two weeks. I know he won't follow my advice, so I can only give him some laudanum to help ease his pain. Perhaps you can work a miracle when I cannot." He gave her shoulder a little pat.

"Thank you, Doctor." She replied in a hush tone.

"I have other patients to see. Ones who will at least try to listen to my advice. I wish you a good evening Miss. Montgomery, and good luck. Call me if he gets any worse."

She stood in the hall and watched him walk quickly away.

_Perhaps you can work a miracle when I cannot. _

His departing words were meant to comfort her, instead they only increased the level of anxiety she felt over the moral dilemma that was before her. She knocked softly on Doc's door and then entered without waiting for a reply.

He was fast asleep. Several pillows elevated his head in a effort to help ease the congestion in his lungs, but from the sound of his wet breathing Alex doubted it would help much. He sounded like he was drowning in his own body fluids. She felt the first tremor of fear launch its assault in her stomach and begin to stretch its tentacles outward. His condition had gotten so much worst since earlier today. Why hadn't Wyatt warned her? Alex had expected Doc to be ill, perhaps even moaning or groaning about staying in bed. She had even prepared a few defensive verbal rebuffs, thinking he would manipulate the situation and try to bed her during her visit. At no time did she think to find him at death's door, but as she took in his startling appearance she could see that his condition was deteriorating rapidly.

The stench of blood lingered in the air. She made a quick survey of his room and found the source. The clothes he had been wearing earlier lay in a pile by the closet door, the jacket was stiff with blood obviously spilled from Doc's mouth. From the size of the stain, Alex could tell he had coughed up a substantial amount, more then he had during his fit in her kitchen. She turned back toward the bed and saw a blood stained hanky on the bedside table. No wonder he was so deathly pale, he had lost a great deal of blood.

She continued to look about the room. On a small table near the window the doctor had left one oil lamp lit, and next to it was a full bottle of laudanum and a spoon. _Pain medicine_, she thought.

Alex lit a second lamp that was next to the bed and turned the wick down low. Then she pulled the upholstered chair closer to Doc so that she could sit by his bed. The quilted cover on the bed seemed to have a life of its own as he continuously shivered with fever, and the cough that had previously haunted him only five or six times an hour was now unrelenting. She leaned over him and slowly traced the outline of his face with her fingers, noting briefly the elavated tempurature in his skin. The tentacles of fear had now grown strong enough to coil around her heart. The words _'don't leave me'_ resonated in her head.

_Perhaps you can work a miracle when I cannot. _

Yes she could, but should she dare defy history?


	19. You & I

**Chapter 18 – You & I **_(revised)**  
**_

Alex knew she needed to take a moment and weigh the consequences before she made any decision, but looking once more at Doc's fragile appearance she felt her heart tug so strongly toward saving him that her hand had already drifted in the direction of his cheek before she realized what she was doing and jerked it back. Emotions that she normally kept suppressed were surging to the surface making it hard to think clearly. She knew Guardian law, knew explicitly the consequences of breaking that law too, and yet she found she didn't really care. They could fire her, remove her from active duty, diminish her rank and privileges, but when compared to saving a man's life all those penalties were really insignificant. But in spite of what her heart was screaming, in the back of her mind the logical portion of her brain was fighting for control. One uncertainty gave her pause, one query, one doubt above all others made her hesitate – if she didn't have the strength to let a consumptive die within the boundaries of natural law, how the hell would she find the courage to destroy the demon who inhabited her beloved husband's body?

Feeling more defeated by the second, Alex sank to the edge of the chair and immediately felt something poke her in the thigh. Confused, she at first thought there must be something wrong with the chair until she remembered the envelope Mr. Fly had given her was still in her pocket. Worried that she had just crushed and mangled Doc's family correspondence or business transaction, she stood up and pulled the letter free. A deep crease marred the paper, cutting across the surface at a forty-five degree angle. Silently chastising herself for her stupidity, she leaned in toward to the lamp and tried to smooth the fold with the warmth of her hand.

One glance at the address had her gasping for breath as a shockwave of horror rocketed through her body acting as a prelude to the gray shadow that fell over her eyes a second later. Her knees buckled, and the room dropped out from under her feet. With a thud she landed on the chair behind her. Slowly, the feeling passed and her vision cleared. Looking down once more at the envelope clutched in her hand she read the address again. It was directed to: _Dr. John H. Holliday, care of C.S Fly's Rooming House_. The post was incidental – it was the handwriting she had recognized.

Alexis didn't weigh the consequences as she turned the envelope over. Whatever moral codes she had learned in her youth she set aside, knowing that the message inside that envelope was so much more important than the certain scolding she would get from Doc when he discovered she had invaded his privacy. Finding it unsealed, she reached for the single sheet of paper enclosed, angling the page toward the light so she could read the letter. The scripted words immediately blurred when tears sprang to her eyes, but she no longer needed to see what was written there. She knew each line by heart. They were song lyrics, one of her favorites by Pat Benatar. It was also the song she and Malachi had danced to at their wedding four years ago. The words represented all the love and turmoil that every relationship encounters and that was why they had claimed the song as their own. This note hadn't been left for Doc, it had been left for her and Malachi had written it. Evidently, he was aware of her attraction to gambler and the song was meant to be a warning.

Wiping the back of her hand over her eyes to clear her vision Alex looked down at the paper and read the words again.

**You & I**

_Are you lonely tonight?  
Are you thinking about me?  
Did you ever wonder how should I feel?  
Close your eyes now and picture me there  
You can push us aside, you can tear us apart  
But it doesn't change the way that I feel  
Close your eyes now and you'll see me there  
By your side, so wrong, so right _

_We make our choices, as time goes by  
But nothin' matters more than you and I  
One in a million, two of a kind  
You & I _

Lyrics that had once symbolized the love she felt for Malachi now held an ominous tone. The sudden decline of Doc's health began to make sense. Alex slid the paper back inside the envelope and stuffed it back inside her pocket. Quickly, she turned up the wick on the lamp beside his bed before lighting a third lamp on the opposite side of the room.

_It was all we could stand  
It was heaven and hell  
It was everything and nothing together  
Maybe some things are just meant to be  
What they are, so close, so far _

_We make our choices, as time goes by  
But nothin' matters more than you and I  
One in a million, two of a kind  
You & I _

A strong feeling of dread was building and building. Alex sat on the bed next to Doc and with a trembling hand she pulled back the quilt that covered him to expose his upper body. Instead of a typical Victorian long sleeved nightshirt Doc wore only a sleeveless undershirt, making the examination less cumbersome.

_You know I love you  
I want you, but what can I do?  
Can't fight this feelin'  
I just can't go on without you  
Baby I want you _

_Are you lonely tonight?  
Are you thinking about me?  
Did you ever wonder how should I feel?  
Maybe some things are just meant to be _

Carefully, so as to not disturb his rest, Alex turned Doc's face to the far right. He groaned in protest but didn't wake. The dim light made it hard to find any marks or punctures, throwing most of his body in shadow. She silently cursed the dim Victorian oil lamp, wishing she had the foresight to carry her flashlight.

_We make our choices, as time goes by  
But nothin' matters more than you and I  
One in a million, two of a kind _

_We make our choices, as time goes by  
But nothin' matters more than you and I  
One in a million, two of a kind  
You & I  
We make our choices  
But nothin' matters  
Only You & I _

As gently as she could, Alex turned his head back toward her but found no marks on that side of his neck either. The movement stirred his congestion and he coughed hard several times, mumbled something in his sleep but she couldn't quite make out what he said.

Puzzled at the lack of evidence, she started to cover him with the quilt when she noticed a large bruise on his left forearm. Picking up his wrist, she turned his hand over, palm up and gasped. On the inside, just below his elbow were two large puncture wounds. "Malachi, I'm going to fucking kill you." She hissed.

Thirteen months ago her nightmare had started, and over the course of those months a plague of ever shifting emotions haunted her daily. Tears she had shed were full of bitterness and disillusionment at the horrid events in her life. Why me, she would scream. First her parents, taken from her when she was just a child, and now her husband, in the prime of his life. At times her resentment was stronger then the sorrow. Every episode left her feeling broken beyond prayer, beyond forgiveness, beyond retribution. Anger had been a constant true friend; anger at the Catholic Church and anger at the Guardian organization, but mostly anger at herself for failing to protect what she had held so close, so dear. Since Malachi had been turned Alex felt as if she was living inside a nightmare, but Doc had changed all that. The growing attachment she felt for him made her extremely protective. Inadvertently, he had become her means to fight back. Her vampire husband had tried to use Doc to make her weak and filled with fear. It was a grave mistake that eventually she would shove down his throat. This time she would not fail to protect what belonged to her.

Always a good student of history, Malachi was well aware that the notorious Dr. John H. Holliday was a consumptive. The demon must have entered Doc's room last night, and took enough blood to seriously weaken his immune system, which had advanced the tuberculosis to the final stage. If she didn't intervene he would die in a few weeks or maybe in just a few days. Again, Doc mumbled again in his sleep, tossing his head back and forth as a crease between his brows emerged. Was he haunted in his dream world as he was in real life? Alex pulled up the quilt, tucked it under his chin and brushed back the hair from his face before leaning over to kiss his soft mouth. "No more bad dreams for you my love." She whispered.

His head turned towards the sound of her voice and in his sleep he called her name. The depth of his connection to her only strengthened Alex's resolve. Her mind was made up. Any indecisiveness she felt earlier washed away with her anger. Stepping back from the bed, Alex wasted no time moving forward with her plan. She checked the locks on the windows and doors before extinguishing all the lamps but one. Standing at the foot of Doc's bed she kept her eyes focused on him as she slowly unbuttoned her dress, leaving the material and two petticoats in a pile at her feet. When she stepped over the fabric, she suddenly realized she was still wearing her patrolling boots. "Damn." She cursed, wondering if anyone had noticed her footwear, before shrugging with indifference, suspecting that her indiscretion would have gone unnoticed. With two quick tugs she was able to pull off the boots along with her socks.

The stark contrast between her pale skin and the black inked tattoos on her forearms was clearly visible even in the dim lamplight, and for the first time in six years she wished she could remove the marks and discard them as easily as had her clothing. Finally, she pulled off the band that held her braided hair in place before shaking her head until her hair flowed freely over her shoulders. She was ready to begin. The feeling was so right, so true, not even God or the devil would be able to alter her course now.

Wearing only her bikini underwear and a camisole, she slipped into Doc's bed and immediately removed the extra pillows that supported his upper body. At the first touch of his fevered ridden skin she hissed sharply between her teeth, suddenly alarmed by the raging sickness he carried. Without the elevation the fluid in his chest began to build, causing him to wheeze and gasp for breath. With a single touch, she placed her hand against his chest and calmed the turbulent fury.

Now that Doc was more comfortable, Alex stretched out alongside his body until she was just as snug, resting her head on his thin shoulder and her hand against his chest. The position was relaxing and felt so secure she wondered if she would ever be able to crawl into another bed and not think of this moment. Even through a drug-induced sleep Doc also sensed her, reacting to the intimacy by immediately shifting his body until he was pressed against her, reaching out with one hand to grasp her shoulder before brushing his lips against her face. He sighed once and slipped into a deeper, more restful sleep.

Alex took a slow, full breath to steady her nerves, concentrating on feeling every inch of her body that was touching Doc and all at once an invisible barrier fell away. She advanced farther, beyond the surface connection until every sensation within his body became a mirror. She felt what he felt. When he breathed, her lungs expanded and contracted. When he swallowed, the muscles in her throat worked in harmony with his. Doc rumbled with pleasure as he subconsciously responded to her presence, causing her own body to react until the warm flush between her legs mimic his growing erection. But not every sensation associated with his presence was one of contentment. As the connection grew stronger, she could feel his fever until she shivered with it; her chest was suddenly tight from his congestion, the pain radiating from the front of her body, through her lungs, ending at her back. Alex let out an involuntary moan, her muscles jerking from the physical agony he endured. The invasion was complete, she felt everything – every partial of his illness as well as the closely controlled fear he never let anyone see.

Her natural defenses protested against the assault to her system, urging her to throw up the barrier and pull away but she refused to let go. Little by little, a single ache and symptom at a time, her body adjusted to the foray as her enhanced immune system absorbed his disease. Lung tissue began to regenerate to a normal state as the inflammation, fever and congestion disappeared. The pain melted away until all that was left was relaxation. Beneath her hand Alex felt Doc pull a deep, pain-free breath. She smiled. There would be no more fevers, no wheezing, no wet congestion, no pain, no urges to cough and no more fucking consumption.

Doc's respiration grew stronger as she worked while her own lungs struggled to function normally. Every aspect of this tuberculosis was running amuck inside her body. Healthy one minute and terminally ill the next, she was receiving a first class lesson in the day-to-day hardship Doc had endured for the pass eight years. Every symptom was making its presence known: fever, body aches, congested, shortness of breath, and the terrible urge to cough raged through her body. Panic bubbled up out of nowhere, and for a few very lengthy seconds she wanted to push him away and rise from the bed so that she could put some distance between herself and the source of her discomfort. The sensation soon passed, leaving her exhausted and weak. Fatigue began to set in, until Alex's limbs felt like someone had filled them with lead. She could barely move, craving sleep and yet there was still more work to do.

Leaning up on one elbow she checked her patient, and then she smiled again, pleased with the results she was witnessing. Doc's shallow complexion had been replaced by a healthy glow, and the muscles in his face that had been tightly drawn with pain, were now relaxed, giving him a more youthful appearance. The dark circles under his eyes had faded – a sign of a good night's rest. Gently, she reached out and pushed his hair off his forehead, letting her fingers work through the texture slowly.

Doc's illness had disappeared but he was far from being one hundred percent cured. Easing back down against him, Alex closed her eyes against the weakness surging through her limbs. She could stop now and leave him as he was. The strain and fatigue in her body begged for rest and for a moment she considered rising from the bed and returning to her own room before Doc woke up, but the years of living with his disease had brought on other ailments, other conditions that seriously needed her attention. As a precaution she inspected the quality of her work, letting her hand roam freely over his chest, she sensed no constriction within his lungs. Timidly, she let her hand glide slowly down his chest toward his stomach until her fingers came to the edge of his undershirt. She eased two fingers under the cloth to caress the smooth skin she found. A low murmur of pleasure sounded under her ear and she raised her head from his chest to see if her touch had woken him, but he was still sleeping soundly with the help of the laudanum.

She would have dearly loved to playfully tease his body to see how he would response to her while asleep and to also see the heighten level of passion in his eyes when he finally woke. It was shameful and wrong to sexually molest an unconscious man, but her fingers itched to touch him, her body ached to rub against his and her mouth craved his taste. Alex bit her lower lip to snap her focus back to her task. There was still much work to do and she needed to hurry before she became too exhaust to return to her room. Pressing her palm against his bitten arm, she felt the wound evaporate as the evidence of Malachi's violation faded. Then her hand travel to his neck and the ulcers that were a product of his tuberculosis and coated the inside of his throat suddenly vanished. Next, she concentrated on the damage his years of drinking had caused. Fatty tissue on his liver dissolved leaving him with a whole and healthy organ. And since it would be counterproductive to leave behind his alcohol dependency she removed that as well.

As she worked, her connection with him strengthened, and a memory gradually emerged from Doc's subconscious – a childhood recollection of his first real brush with fear from an injury. The vision was a strong one, like a family film it replayed in his mind, allowing her to witness flashes of imagery. Alex saw Doc as a small boy living in the Deep South. Standing around him were children wearing antiquated clothing played ball in a large field. Further in the distance, acres of cotton stood in bloom, and speckled throughout the fields were dozens of slaves picking the white fibers. The boy suddenly fell, getting a deep gash in his left knee that led to a great deal of blood that coated his leg and shoe, leaving him badly frightened and crying. The memory abruptly shifted and Alex saw a dark haired woman sitting on a wide porch, holding the young John Holliday, singing calming words as she rocked him back and forth. Alex pulled back on the connection she held with his body, and the dream faded sliding back into the depths of Doc's unconscious mind. The woman in the memory must have been Doc's mother who had died when he was only fifteen. Out of curiosity, Alex reached toward his knee and lightly fingered the scar, and as an after thought she healed that too.

The job was complete – John Henry Holliday was now a well and whole man. Alex, however, was feeling less than perfect. The toll on her system was hitting her hard. So hard, she wondered if standing would be at all possible at the moment. If she could just get her clothes back on, she could rest in the chair for an hour or two, and if Doc should wake she could just tell him Wyatt asked her to watch over him while he slept.

Alex shifted her weight, preparing to break the physic bond and scoot toward the edge of the bed when Doc groaned again. A second latter he rolled against her, forcing her onto her back. She was trapped. He was lying halfway across her pelvis with his one leg entwined around hers and an arm swept across her chest and shoulder. The evidence of his arousal was pressing hard against her, transferring electric pulses of pleasure from his body to her groin. Closing her eyes against the sensation, she was suddenly startled when he spoke her name. Through the dim light Alex could see his clear blue eyes looking down at her and the beauty she saw there stirred her beyond words, beyond conscious thought. She should have been alarmed when he discovered her snuggled next to him in bed, or worried he might explode with anger. Excuses should have been overflowing through her head until she found one he might believe. Escape plans should have utmost in her mind, but they weren't. She was spellbound, held captive by his face and the overwhelming emotion she saw there.

All of a sudden, the reality of what she had accomplished tonight resonated through her soul, moving her close to tears. Earnest blue eyes, full lips, high-set cheek bones, wavy blonde hair, haunted soul, sarcastic wit, all the aspects that made up the man she held would continue after tonight, and for the first time since her arrival to this century she had no clue how his life would proceed. There were endless possibilities and countless scenarios. He could marry, have children, move back home to Georgia and reclaim his place among his family. He could stay out west, open a saloon of his own and continue to enjoy his daily gaming escapades. Or, John Holliday could change his name, move to an unknown location and start anew. Absolutely anything was possible for him now and this thought filled her with joy.

Wanting only to share her excitement she reacted on her impulse by reaching behind his neck and pulled his mouth toward hers, kissing him hard. Taken off guard by her maneuver, he tensed up for only a second before relinquishing all control. Perhaps it was the physic connection she maintained that enhanced the experience because once he started to make love to her she simply forgot to let go.

Alex thought she had experienced the full extent of Doc's passion the night of the funeral when he had walked her to her room and suddenly grabbed her hard, molding her form to press against the length of his body. When he started to kiss her she knew then she was in over her head. Thankfully, John had not let things get out of hand. After a few moments he simply pulled back, said good night and walked back downstairs leaving her trembling and aching for more. But now she had the distinct feeling he had intentionally shown her just a taste of his desire because it was hardly equivalent to what he was revealing now. One part of her was relieved he wasn't demanding an explanation, or God forbid, ordering her to get out. She was much too weak to stand at the moment, and too exhausted to argue with him. The sexual need he was summoning from deep inside her body would only allow her to function on one level. Tonight she would offer him no refusal, and there would be no escape. On a fundamental level, Doc must have sensed this and was consequently taking advantage of her weakness.

He demanded her attention and obedience with soft lips that pressed against her mouth, kissing her with abandon. His tongue dipped slowly in and out of her mouth, fucking her symbolically, teasing her about what lay ahead until she was aching and breathless. As soon as she matched his rhythm Doc would change pace, deserting her mouth to leave small sharp bites on her chin, neck and shoulders before sucking against her skin to ease the sting. To sooth the aches in other parts of her body, he let his warm hands roam freely, touching her face, arms, legs, breasts before dipping between her legs to cup her sex.

When her murmurs of pleasure encouraged him, his lovemaking became more aggressive. Sinking one hand deep into her hair to grab a large handful of golden tresses, he pulled her head back sharply making room for his lips and teeth to wander over her neck, biting her one-minute and sucking deeply the next, while his other hand slipped under her camisole to fondle her breast, pinching and pulling against her nipple. The sensation shot straight to her sex, and she gasped loudly, pushing her breast hard against his hand. Doc cooed to her softly, whispering words of passion in her ear before pinching again. Her cries of pleasure were muffled when he captured her mouth with another kiss while sliding his hand between her breasts, lightly caressing her skin as he slowly glided down the length of her body toward her waist, stopping when he reached panties. She jerked with surprise when he eased two fingers under the elastic to gently caress the smooth skin on her lower stomach, mimicking her earlier teasing touch. The look on his face betrayed nothing, but obviously John must have been a little more awake then she realized.

Alex was no longer thinking of the consequences of her actions, she simply responded to the desire she felt. When he pulled against her camisole, she raised her arms so he could raise it over her head before reciprocating by helping him to remove his undershirt. The skin on skin contact had them both groaning loudly. This time when her hands ran over his body it had nothing to do with a physical healing. Her purpose had only one outcome, one course as she slowly caressed the fine hairs on his chest, and then over the taunt muscles in his back. Lower still, her fingers traveled until she met the top of his underpants, one hard push and she had the material sliding over his hips. Doc reached down and pulled them completely off before pressing his bare flesh against her body. Free from the barrier of their clothing, they both trembled with need.

The sensation of his warm masculine legs rapped around hers was memorizing; the scent of his body only aroused her more until she could feel her wetness run between her legs. She had never ached for a man like this before. Where had all this emotion come from? Was it the forbidden attraction that added fuel to her desire, or was the chemistry between them real and binding? Even as she met his mouth for another demanding kiss, she knew the consequences of her actions tonight would reverberate through the entire Guardian organization, but that concern wouldn't stop her tonight.

The sound of her name whispered passionately against her ear scattered her thoughts. She called back, his name becoming a secret plea. The ache between her legs was almost unbearable. "I want you." She told him when the wet tip of his erection slid like warm silk against her thigh, inviting her hand to dip between their bodies until she could circle her hand around his smooth hard shaft. John exhaled loudly in her ear one breathy moan before he pushed against her hand rubbing his entire length, and then slowly pulling his hips back before pushing once again. Panting, his whole body shook with pleasure. Still connected to every nuance of Doc's body, she felt what he felt and had to bite her lip to stifle a scream. She had never experienced sex like this before – the melding of her contentment with that of her partner. Doc was the first man she had been intimate with since Malachi's death and the territory she was sailing in was uncharted. _What a delicious little perk to my gift,_ she thought while slipping her hand between Doc's legs to cup his sack, fondling him just the way he liked. The connection between them was so heightened, that she could answer his every little craving, stroking him, licking him, cupping him without being told where or how he needed it, and while answering his yearnings, she was pleasuring herself as well.

"Oh, God." Doc breathed before reaching for her panties, grabbing a delicate strap and ripping them off. He kissed her hard again, letting his mouth travel down to her throat, sucking deeply. With a final groan he slid between her legs. Pulling her one breast deep into his mouth to suck, teasing the sensitive tip with his tongue until she cried out while sinking her hands into his hair to hold him. Alex arched her hips upward, welcoming him, urging him to claim her, when he suddenly stopped, pulled back and circled her waist with his hands to hold her still. He paused, staring down at her with a multitude of expressions crossing his face.

As if in a dream, Doc gazed down at the woman in his bed. He had no idea how or why she was here. He didn't care. The details were meaningless when compared to the present results, and he couldn't have been more pleased by what he saw. Her long hair was wild, fanned out against the pillows of his bed just like the vision he had the first day they had met. Her eyes were sensual orbs of emerald green surrounded by dark lashes that gave her a feral expression. Silently, he wondered if he listened closely would he be able to hear her purring. With the greatest of care, he let the tips of his fingers skirt lightly across her features, tracing the fine arch of her brows, the delicate curve of her lips and nose, and the petal soft texture of her skin. "There have been many times I have imagined you thus," he confessed, his voice a low throaty whisper, "but scarcely did I dare hope it would come true. If I dream now, I hope fate will be kind enough to let me finish before I wake."

"Then let us both dream until fate is again unkind." Alexis replied tenderly, reaching for his hand to place a tender kiss on the inside of his wrist. She was not sorry she had saved him by correcting the terrible injustice that scholars had pondered for decades. Fate had finally changed course to hopefully steer his life in a better direction. However, fate would not be as kind to her. She had tipped the scales to receive his heartache and make it her own. When her mission was complete she would be left grieving for two lovers instead of just one.

Her sad thoughts dispersed like smoke on a spring breeze when she felt his soft warm fingers slowly roamed over her waist, and up her sides to wrap under her back. He arched her upwards, and sucked deeply on her right nipple. She bit back a scream as she experienced the sensation of his pleasure mixed with her own. Doc shifted his body again, she could feel him slide between her legs, caressing her most sensitive area. This time she couldn't hold in her response. A pulse of his pleasure and hers rolled through her as he continued to rub against her. Overwhelmed by what she was experiencing, Alex struggled to form thoughts and words. She felt like she was being slowly and sensually consumed. One part of her wanted the pleasure to end as an equally strong part wanted to indulge in the sensation for eternity.

She would have liked to slow down their lovemaking so she could explore his body as well, but he stilled had her pinned beneath him and Doc seemed to be very determined to delve into every part of her body he could. He slid one hand down her back and cupped her buttocks as his opposite hand floated over her lower stomach before dipping between her legs to travel the length of her groin and back again pressing and probing in all the right places. "God, you're so wet." He whispered, before leaning forward to flick his tongue across one peaked nipple. His fingers sought the origin of her pleasure and began to stroke her until he found a rhythm that stirred her beyond words, playing it for her until she was pleading with him to end her torment.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of exquisite torture to Alex, Doc raised himself over her hips and as he continued to stroke her he slowly slid deep inside her body, expelling a satisfying moan. Alex had a strong desire to yell, "At last" but managed to restrain her compulsion. Instead, she whispered something on the breath of a sigh and accepted him, wrapping her legs around his hips, taking him deeper until he settled against her core.

The movement pushed Doc to the very edge of his control. He hissed sharply between his teeth, leaning in to latch onto her mouth to suck gently on her lower lip. With one hand braced against her left hip, he stilled any further movement she might make. Hovering above her, Alex felt his body shake with passion as he struggled to hold his looming orgasm in check. After a moment of rest, he began to move against her.

"Oh, God." She moaned, and all rational thought fled. Her world narrowed to sharply focus on John and nothing else. Every movement of his hips, every sigh of pleasure, and every kiss buried him deeper in her heart until he became anchored.

Doc was experiencing a similar reaction, but the sensation for him was a new one that left him navigating in unknown territory. Sex with Kate had always been pleasurable; her skills in bed assured them equal bliss. She had taught him numerous ways of teasing and coaxing a woman until she reached organism. Even when he was bed bound with sickness she always managed to stir him until he forgot himself, forgot his illness, and forgot the endless pain life had given him. Consequently, sex had become another vise and another way for him to escape reality.

But what he was feeling now was altogether different. Desire like he had never known before rippled throughout his body, but fulfillment from the experience seemed to slip further and further from his reach, leaving him unsatisfied, wanting more. He knew where he could find it; it was buried somewhere inside the woman beneath him. Tonight each stroke in and out of Alex's body left him feeling more connected, as if he was slowly becoming a part of her, and if he continued to move against her their bodies would eventually meld together and become one. That detached feeling he was so accustomed had mysteriously vanished, leaving him united with something he had never known before. Doc was not a fool. He knew what this feeling was. For the first time in his life he was experiencing a physical connection with someone he cared about and who also cared for him. This wasn't just sex – this trembling, passion driven hunger was what lovemaking felt like. He no longer wanted to escape from reality; he wanted to lose himself in Alex instead.

When she climaxed Doc quickly followed, but that was only the beginning. He was still hard and continued to rock against her. Considering the circumstances, she should have guessed their coupling would not be the average run of the mill roll in the hay.

Alexis maintained her intimate connection with the inner workings of Doc's body, his passion and hers merged into one, assaulting her each time he stroked her. It was time, she decided, for Doc to learn a little about her secret and join in on the fun. She released the barrier that protected her inner psyche and let the gateway open. When he suddenly sucked in his breath sharply, she knew he was feeling what she felt each time he rocked against her body. Unexpectedly, her body released again, and she couldn't help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction when he gasped loudly as he felt her orgasm course through his body.

Doc's stamina was greater then hers; it was some time later when he finally reach under her leg and push her knee towards her head and drove his hips hard against her, once, twice more, before finally crying his release.

Ever so gently Alex released her connection with his body, and the sudden absence of his essence left her feeling empty, alone and incomplete without him. Like weak kittens they lay against one another, too spent to move.

With a great deal of effort Doc raised his head and kissed her deeply as his hands roamed over her body that was now slick with sweat. "My God, Alex," he panted, "I don't think I have ever had an experience like that before." He looked down at her flushed face and kissed her again. "You are so damn beautiful it breaks my heart just to look at you."

He dipped his head and blew gently on the moist skin of her neck. She arched against the cool air and chuckled softly, while her hands reached to pull him closer as he tasted the warm flesh of her neck, liked what he found there and sucked harder.

He laughed aloud. "I can't believe you're here. Why? How?" He began but she stopped him by pressing a finger to his lips.

"Does it really matter why or how I came to be here?"

It was a good question. Did he really care why Alex was here or was the end result more than enough to satisfy him? As Doc looked down at her he realized her presence quenched a need he had not wanted to recognize. Finally, he found what he had been missing for years – a profound connection with another person that transcended loneliness, anger, and hatred. It began to fill the void in his soul that had been a part of him for so long he could no longer remember when or how it was created. He looked down at the woman he held and gave the sensation he was feeling a name – love. He wanted to tell her, could feel the urge building inside his chest until it seemed to take physical form feeding off his body like the disease that was slowly consuming him. But the sensation was too newly born to utter aloud and he could only kiss her passionately and whisper her name against her ear.

"No. It doesn't matter. I don't care anymore that circumstances surrounding you are suspect. As long as you'll stay with me."

Alex swallowed hard, feeling the deep ache of loss inside her heart threatening to break free. "I'll stay as long as I can, John. That is all I can promise." She felt hot tears begin to course down her face.

"I'll take it." _For now_, he thought. He leaned down and licked her tears not realizing he tasted his own as well.

He loved her once more before they both fell into a deep-peaceful sleep.


	20. Of Boots and Philosophy

**A/N – I apologize for this short chapter, but I promise the next one will make up for it. Don't forget to leave me a review :)

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**Chapter 19 – Of Boots and Philosophy**

…_she was wearing masculine-black boots. _

Wyatt watched Alex walk away until she rounded a corner and out of his sight. A deep unseated feeling began to gnaw in the pit of his stomach. He walked back inside the saloon and stopped at the bar for a drink. Lord knows he needed a drink tonight, perhaps he'd have several.

When Milt approached, Wyatt ordered whiskey. "On second thought Milt, just get me a glass and the bottle."

"How'd you make out tonight Wyatt?" Milt asked quietly as he poured Wyatt a drink and left the bottle sitting on the bar next to his glass. So he wouldn't draw suspicion as they talked, Milt began to polish some bar glasses.

Wyatt tipped back the glassed and drained it in one swallow. Then he filled it again, and took a small sip this time before answering Milt's question. "I think we found what we were looking for Milt, but at the moment I couldn't begin to describe what it was." He didn't meet Milt's eyes as he talked, but focused on the row of bottles stacked along the back of the bar as he pondered the night's events.

"I don't follow you."

Wyatt snapped out of his trance and raised his eyes to meet Milt's. "It… ah, hell. You're going to think I'm off my rocker when I tell you. Whatever is living at the Clanton ranch is unnatural."

There was a loud clink as Milt's rhythmic wipe and swipe of each glass before placing it face down on the counter behind him came to an erupt end when he dropped one glass on top of the others. "Unnatural?"

"As in not of this world. That's all I can say at the moment."

"What can you do about it?" Milt asked with a hint of fear in his eyes.

Deep in thought again, Wyatt looked over at Virgil and Morgan as they quietly talked at their table. "I don't know. I really don't know." He replied softly.

Abruptly, Wyatt changed topics. "Milt, did Alex leave the saloon at any time tonight?"

He nodded his head. "Miss Alex was very upset when she found that you and Doc had left"

"You mean you told her we went to the Clanton ranch?" This little bit of information was illuminating a whole new piece of Alex's mysterious background.

"Didn't have a choice but to tell her. I tried to work my way around not telling her, but …" He hesitated to admit a woman had intimidated him as his round face suddenly turned a lovely shade of pink. "Wyatt, she actually grabbed the front of my shirt and forced me to tell her."

Wyatt's eyebrows lifted with surprise. "She _made_ you tell her. How, Milt?"

Milt nodded his head. Even after experiencing her odd behavior first hand, he was still having trouble believing it. "She twisted my collar until I couldn't breath, that's how. I've never seen that side of Miss Alex before. I have to tell you Wyatt, I think she was very frighten when I told her where you had gone."

Several pieces of this strange puzzle slowly came together to form a partial clue. "Have you noticed anything else peculiar about Alex?"

Milt thought for a minute, and then shook his head. "She's just a girl, Wyatt."

It was true, Alex was just a girl, but something was telling him the answer wasn't that simple. "How about her shoes, notice anything funny about her shoes?"

Clearly puzzled at Wyatt's odd question, Milt could only shake his head. "What's so odd about a woman's shoes, Wyatt?"

"Ah, it's probably nothing." Wyatt took another deep drink from his glass. If he kept up this pace he would be too drunk to get home. "You know, it is kind of funny, she didn't say she knew we went to the Clanton ranch. When we got back she asked about Doc, and I lied and said he didn't feel well and asked that I take him back to the hotel. She didn't let on she knew I was lying. There's something going on and I just can't put my finger on it."

"What about Doc, is he really sick?"

"Yeah. It's not looking too good for Doc."

Both men became quiet as they considered what the outcome for Doc would eventually be. Death was a part of life, and life on the Western frontier was harsh, cold. Each day was a test of survival, leaving little time for pity or kindness. There was no doubt in Wyatt's mind that Doc had not experienced much compassion in his life. He knew very little about his friend's life before he came West, and Doc was not forthcoming about his past or the reasons why he continued to live a solitary life, with no wife, no family and no home. But like the riddle of Alex and her mysterious shoes, which would eventually guide him to an answer, all the clues regarding Doc's lifestyle led Wyatt to believe that life had been particularly harsh for his friend. The sarcasm and antagonistic behavior. The drunken days that blended into drunken nights. The sudden explosive, violent bouts of anger combined with his excessive spending habits, all screamed internalized anger and grief to Wyatt. Who or what was the cause of Doc's pain would probably always remain a mystery, at least to his friends. Alex on the other hand, might have a remote chance of soothing his soul if she continued to be a part of his life and if Doc lived long enough to let her.

Milt apparently felt the same why. "I'm glad he has Miss Alex to look over him. I've never seen two people so taken with each other. They seem like a good match. Too bad the ending will be sad."

Wyatt nodded his head in agreement. "I've known Doc a few years now, and of course I knew about his illness, but truthfully, he always seemed too ornery to die. Tonight was the first time I've ever seen him so frail and sickly."

Virgil and Morgan's sudden approach was a welcomed interruption. "Wyatt, we're going home, why don't you come and stay with Allie and me tonight?"

"Yeah, ok Virg. Thanks." Wyatt stood and tossed some money on the bar for Milt.

Virgil placed a comforting arm around his little brother. "Good. We can talk tomorrow, and maybe go back to the Clanton ranch in the morning."

The men nodded goodnight to Milt and walked out the door together.

Milt was still pondering Wyatt's strange conversation. What did he mean by 'unnatural' and why did he think Miss Alex's shoes were strange? If he hadn't seen Wyatt take his first drink tonight he would have thought the man was drunk.

As his customers clamored for attention, Milt quickly forgot about Wyatt and the queer events of the evening.


	21. Reflections

**_"Warning! Warning! Danger Will Robinson!" _If you have no idea what I'm referring to then you're probably too young to be reading this chapter, because it contains a strong sexual theme :)**

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**Chapter 20 – Reflections**

She wiped the steamy mirror with the towel. Her reflection came into view and she studied its appearance with interest as she began to tally the flaws she found. She had lost weight. Her normally large-green eyes now consumed her face. Underneath each orb was a dark shadow. Well, that was to be expected. Lately she had gotten very little sleep. _Especially last night_. She smiled as she reflected on the evening she had spent with Doc.

She had risen early and left him sleeping soundly in his bed while she made use of the modern facilities down the hall from his room. Her body was pleasantly sore and achy in all the right places. It was a sinful thought she knew, but one every woman longs to experience. A hot bath was the finale to an evening well spent.

She wiped once again at the foggy mirror. She was definitely a little paler and a slightly thinner then she would like to be. She often forgot to eat before she went on patrol. Actually, she couldn't remember when she had last eaten a proper meal. Lately, she would grab a mouthful or two from whatever she was cooking for the evening meal.

She looked down at her forearms and the tattooed symbols on each. The soft candlelight had made excellent cover so John wouldn't noticed the markings, but the morning sunlight streaming in his bedroom would be a problem. Hopefully, she would be able to keep her arms down towards the bed or behind his back.

Bugger! What was she thinking? 

Of course she _wanted_ to make love to him again, but what she should do is get dressed and get the hell out of his room before he woke up.

She quickly straightened up the bathroom, grabbed her towel and wrapped herself in a robe she had borrowed from his closet. It was a beautiful robe of quilted satin in a deep maroon with a velvet collar and cuffs. Of course it was too big and long for her, but she only had to walk a short distance down the hall to John's room.

The robe she had chosen was just one of three robes she found when she looked in his closet. The man was a clotheshorse. He had several suits. Alex had counted eight total: three in black, two in navy blue, two in a deep gray and one in a light gray. There were shirts in every color, and at least ten waistcoats that would coordinate beautifully when matched with the right color shirt. He had three sets of leather boots neatly aligned on the closet floor. Hanging on a peg, attached to the inside of the closet door, was an extra gun and holster. To top the collection were three hats, and two long coats, one in gray and another in a beige canvas material. Every article was neat, clean and orderly.

Closets were personal things. You can tell a lot about a person by looking through their closet. John's closet spoke volumes about his inner nature. To Alex it said he was orderly and very self-controlled. He was careful with his possessions and the things he possessed were of the finest quality. But the closet was also bare of any personal mementoes, as if his past had at some earlier time been discarded. Alex also noticed the lack of any dental equipment.

She tightened the belt on the robe and turned her face into the velvet collar and breathed deeply. John's personal aroma of spiced soap seeped into her senses. Smells create the strongest memories and this smell she would carry to her grave. Her eyes momentarily filled with tears. She knew at some point she would regret getting involved with the intriguing Doc Holliday, but she seemed unable to stop herself. It was a predestine course and she had to follow it no matter the cost. _Try_ _not give him your heart_, _stupid_. She repeated over and over again as she walked back to his room.

As quietly as she could, she opened the door and shut it behind her. He was still sleeping. She stopped at the end of the bed and stood for a moment to observe the peaceful countenance of his rest. He was lying on his stomach with one pillow encircled in his arms and partially under his head. His face was smooth, relaxed, and for once free of the tight control he held. He appeared younger then his thirty years. Especially with his hair messed up and sticking out straight as it was now. One leg was bent and semi exposed. His body was long and thin, but beautifully defined. It was true his muscles were not as developed as some men, but his illness was most likely the cause. John's form was what some people referred to as wiry in strength and build.

He was beautiful, and Alex knew her heart would break to leave him. She was crying again. _Then take him back with you, _her inner voice replied. She wiped at her tears as she sat in the upholstered chair. No, she couldn't do that. She would have to leave him behind. He would never fit comfortably in the twenty-first century, and staying in the past with him would never do. She couldn't, wouldn't, stay with him and live a lie. It wouldn't matter anyway, he was bound to discover her secret, and when he did he would never forgive her for lying to him. She was only prolonging the inevitable. Doc was smart. It was only a matter of time before he uncovered the truth. Hopefully, she could persuade him to go back home and marry his cousin Mattie, or some other local girl. It would be the best thing for him. _And for you, too, right girlfriend? You could bear that. _

Yes, she could bear that. But if he goes back to that whore she'll travel back through time and smack him silly.

Directly to her left was his tin of tobacco. _Why not_, she thought, and began to roll a smoke. She would wait for him to wake up, and while she waited she would smoke and comb out her wet hair. It would take an hour for it to dry anyway. She really missed her blow dryer.

An hour later John woke to the smell of cigarette smoke. He raised his head slightly and the first thing he saw as Alex wrapped in his robe, sitting in his chair and smoking his tobacco. When he sat up she turned to him and smiled.

"Good morning. I've been waiting for you to wake up."

John ran his hand over his hair, which only messed it up further. With a grin on his face he asked, "Do you believe in irony, Alex?"

"What? Do I believe in irony? Well, that's a funny way to say good morning." He was amused about something, but Alex had no idea what it was.

"Never mind Darlin." He chuckled softly. "Just come back to bed."

She moved to put out the cigarette when he said, "No, wait, bring it with you."

"All right." She stood up and began to step towards the bed loving the way his eyes seemed to devour every inch of her form.

"And don't you look luscious in my robe." He said as he took the smoke from her, inhaled deeply, and then placed the cigarette in the ashtray next to the bed.

He pulled her across his lap and began to nuzzle in her hair. "God, you smell good, too." His voice was husky and low.

She entwined her arms around his neck, letting her fingers first smooth his hair in the places where it was sticking up straight. His lips silenced any reply she might have had, while his hand slowly coax the robe from her shoulders.

"Let's stay in bed all day, Alex." His mouth slid down her neck and lingered on her shoulder. She issued a wanton groan.

"We'll have breakfast sent up." He exposed her right breast; his fingers began to lightly caress the tip.

"Afterwards, I'll do all kinds of naughty things to you." His mouth latched on to one nipple and sucked. She grabbed his upper arms for support as a wave of pleasure rolled through her.

"I can think of half a dozen I like to do right now." Then his teeth gently bit the perfect erect peak he had created.

She wrapped her arms around him and did her best to hang on and ride the wave of pleasure he created. This moment with him was all she could have faith in. She would not think about the consequences. The sorrow would come, she had no doubt about that, but she would cope with it another time – in her time, in the future.

* * *

They did not spend all day in bed even though Doc tried his best to persuade her. In retaliation, he teased her unmercifully before calling the Fly's youngest son, who served as bellhop, and ordered breakfast to be sent up to the room. 

Alex enjoyed sitting in his bed as she watched him move about the room. He made a close examination of his blood soaked jacket from the night before, frowned deeply at the stain, before placing it on a pile of laundry he would send out to be cleaned. "I hope it can be saved." He mumbled more to himself then to her.

Then his attention wandered to the bottle of laudanum Dr. Goodfellow had left sitting on a table. Carefully he uncorked the bottle, sniffed the contents before sealing it again. To Alex he seemed to be considering the outcome of the pain medicine he had been forced to take last night. "I believe the doctor only gave me one dose of this last night. Are you aware of my taking any more than that, Alex?" A small puzzled frown crossed his face before he placed the bottle in his dresser drawer.

She shook her head and then asked, "Is the affect of laudanum that strong?"

"Yes, quite so. If you are in pain, it is a miracle drug, although it does have a tendency to render you unconscious for several hours. Have you never had the cause to take laudanum?"

She chuckled softly before replying. "No. I have been blessed with a very health immune system. I don't ever recall being ill."

Her words seemed to disturb him. He looked at her strangely for a moment before turning away, as he continued to straighten up his room. "You are very fortunate." He replied in a tight voice. "I've been ill for so long now I can't remember what it feels like to be healthy and whole." He walked over to the window and opened it just a crack to help air out the room.

After he had picked up his clothing and removed all traces of his illness from the night before, he then checked his gun and began to reload the weapon.

The efficient way he removed all traces of his soiled clothing and the laudanum reminded Alex of a well-used ritual. "This wasn't the first time you've been ill, was it?"

"No, not the first and probably not the last either." He issued a soft sarcastic laugh.

"How long have you been ill, John?"

He paused from reloading his gun to look over at her. "Since… forever." He shrugged lightly which did nothing to hide his discomfort from Alex. She continued to look at him as she waited for him to answer. Finally, after he hung his gun from the bedpost, he noticed she was still staring at him intently.

He sighed loudly before he gave her the answer she sought. "I was twenty two when I was first diagnosed with consumption, I am now thirty, which means I have been ill for eight years. My uncle, who was a medical doctor before the war, suggested I go West to a drier climate in hope it would halt the progress of my illness. It didn't. So, here in the West I am and here I shall stay."

She didn't ask him any more questions after that. Discussing his illness and his personal life seemed to distress him and the last thing she wanted to do was to stir that hot temper of his. Even if she wanted to continue discussing his life John didn't give her the opportunity to do so.

He made a quick change of topics by taking the robe she had been wearing away from her, telling her that he wanted to watch her eat breakfast in his bed naked. But ever conscious of the necessity to hide the tattoos on her arms, she waited until his back was turned while he located a new pouch of tobacco, and then quickly slipped on one of his shirts that he had set aside to be laundered. He was only slightly disappointed when he saw she was covered before conceding he loved the look of her wearing his clothes.

He rolled a smoke, filled a glass with whiskey and climbed back on the bed next to her. He inhaled deeply on the smoke before passing it to her. She took a small puff and place it the ashtray on the dresser next to the bed.

"How do you feel this morning, John?" She asked as she grabbed the glass of whiskey from his hand and placed it on the dresser and out of his reach.

"Hmm. Better, much better." He was making a close examination of her left foot with his mouth. The soft hairs of his mustache combined with the delicate strokes of his lips and tongue against the soul of her foot were about to send her over the edge. She could feel the erotic sensations shoot up her leg until it hit her groin. His fingers caressing the back of her knee only increased the experience. She choked back a cry when he took one toe in his mouth and began to suck on it.

"We should let Dr. Goodfellow know you are feeling better." She uttered with a shaky voice.

"Piss on Dr. Goodfellow." His exploration took a turn northward as his mouth traveled up her leg. He placed his hands on the inside of her legs and pushed them further apart before stopping to bite the delicate skin on inside of her thigh.

Alex was practically panting from his slow and deliberate seduction.

"Alex," he asked softly as he ran one finger over the dark blonde curls between her legs, "how did you come to be in my bed last night?" A soft moan was the answer she gave him.

"Why would a woman who has kept me at arms distance suddenly decide to change the nature of our relationship?" He dipped his head lower and flicked his tongue against her.

The pleasure she felt at his intimate touch left her speechless. She automatically bent her knee in response to his stimulus. John reached up and pushed against it exposing her further to his assault.

He slipped one long finger inside her and began to caress her with firm strokes. "Darlin, you didn't answer me?"

"Are you sorry I came?" She panted.

"No, actually, I'm looking forward to you coming again." He latched his mouth on her and sucked softly.

Her back arched as she pushed against him, a keening cry escaped throat.

John pushed his finger in deeper curving it slightly upward to touch the sensitive area that would give her the most pleasure. She gasped. He could tell she was only seconds from her release. When there was a knock on the bedroom door he jerked his head at the sound, the subtle movement caused Alex to cry out again. Quickly, he placed his hand over her mouth before she was heard.

"Mr. Holliday, your breakfast is ready." The bellboy called from the other side of the door.

John lifted his head to answer and Alex whimpered in protest. "Leave it outside the door James, I'm not dressed at the moment." He used his thumb in place of his mouth. Alex issue a muffled moaned and bit his hand.

"I don't mind waiting Mr. Holliday."

Doc cursed softly under his breath. "Just leave the tray James, I'll get it momentarily." He heard the soft clinking of china touching china as the tray was placed on the hall floor, followed by the sound of bellboy's departing footsteps.

Alex's hold on his hand increased. John looked up at her with a devilish expression on his face. "Will you stop biting me? If I can't deal cards tonight Alex I swear I'll take it out on your backside."

She released his hand. He grabbed her legs and pulled her down further on the bed. Then he leaned over her flushed body and slowly slid inside her. She moaned with satisfaction.

"You never answered my question." He dipped his head to taste the warm skin on her throat.

"Actually, I wanted to visit the man next door and mistakenly entered your room instead." She started to snicker, but then John began to move inside her and it ended as moan.

"Witch." He whispered in her ear. "Lucky for me you made an error, and lucky for Mrs. Sampson who lives next door."

Alex would have given him a sassy comeback, but she was finding it hard to think straight as he rocked into her steadily, bent on increasing the assaulting waves of pleasure cascading through her body and his setting them both free.

* * *

**A/N: Ok, so did anyone follow Doc's reference to his past experiences of sitting, smoking and waiting?** **Do ya see why he thought it was funny? Thanks for reading and don't forget to leave me some thoughts on the story. **


	22. Breakfast, Coffee and Candor

**Chapter 21 – Breakfast, Coffee and Candor **

Thankfully, their breakfast was still warm when John finally placed the tray on the bed between them. He poured her coffee while she eagerly ate the scrambled eggs and toast he had ordered for her. She sat Indian style on the bed still wearing his shirt, which she had managed to tuck around her giving her a small measure of modesty.

"Worked up quite the appetite didn't you, Miss. Montgomery?" He was stretched out on his side leaning casually against one elbow as he also ate a large plate of scrambled eggs.

Alex noted his smug expression, and she expected it would probably be there for some time. Obviously, he was very pleased with the success of their new arrangement. As if to confirm her observation, he winked at her and then bit into a slice of toast.

"You look very proud of yourself, Mr. Holliday." She leaned in to place a small kiss on his lips before whispering. "I congratulate you on your recent success." Then she leaned back and proceeded to sip her coffee as she gleamed at him over the rim of the cup.

He couldn't help but laugh at her. "You are a pistol, Alex. I realized that the first day we met, and of course I found it not only alluring but a challenge as well."

Alex heaved a dramatic sigh as she looked sadly down at her cup. "Ah well, now that you have mastered the conquest, I suppose you will find the allure has diminished. I'm afraid I will find that I am… how did Kate phrase it? Oh yes, now I remember…. one of many."

He frowned as he considered her last statement. "I guess I do owe you an explanation."

She stopped him before he could continue. "You don't owe me anything, John. I'm here because I want to be with you. I don't give a damn what Kate said. That is a private matter between you and her."

Her statement surprised him. "I must add forthright, to your list of virtues. Most women would have pressed me for an answer. Why are you so different?"

She shrugged. "I'm not. I just choose to see us differently. I don't want to waste the time I have with you by dragging the psychological aspects of your relationship with Kate into our liaison. One has nothing to do with the other. It's as simple as that."

"Amazing." He muttered. "I am grateful for your integrity. Although, I'm still embarrassed by Kate's outburst and must add that her accusations are totally unfounded. There are no other women, Alex. Kate was just trying to pick a fight and she succeeded." He reached forward to skim his hand under the shirt and fondle her knee as he continued to stare at her still in awe by her earlier admission.

Alex wondered if she dared ask the question that has puzzled historians for years. "John… why is Kate the only woman in your life?" Alex felt a chill descend in the air around them as his hand pulled back and reached for his cup.

"What exactly do you mean?" He asked without looking up at her.

"Well, you're a young, handsome, single, educated, dentist who could, if he chose, have his pick of many different women. Why limit yourself to a woman who is…unworthy of you?"

He issued a soft, bitter laugh. "I'm a walking deathtrap, Alex. I have nothing worthy to offer any woman. I shouldn't even be here with you. I'll be dead in a few short years, maybe sooner. The only thing I could offer you, or any other woman is the title of Widow. Kate understood that and didn't care. She…" He stopped and ran his hand over his mustache as he considered what he was about to say. "She and I had an arrangement – a long-term proposition between a whore and her client, if you will. After my death, the arrangement would of course be dissolved. When she attacked you she was merely protecting her investment, not her love for me."

She looked away from the painful honesty he displayed. Her eyes felt hot as she struggled to fight back her tears. "What if…" She sniffed hard and wiped her nose against her napkin. "What if your life could change? If you could overcome your illness and live a long-healthy life, would you make a different choice?"

A bright smile was his answer accompanied by a slow shake of his head. "Silly girl, that card is not in the hand I was dealt."

"Don't be so sure, John." She leaned in and kissed his soft mouth. "The odds may have just tipped in your favor."

He furrowed his brow, confused by her statement. "You sound as if you know the future. Are you a seer as well as a cook?"

"No, I'm not a seer. But I wish I was, then I could kick your butt in poker." She tried to lighten up the seriousness of their conversation. She didn't want to him to be sad about a condition he no longer had. Of course he didn't know that, but eventually she would have to tell him. It was only fair he should know. He'll think she was nuts and be glad to be rid of her when the time came for her to leave, but after a few weeks he would begin to realize he felt different. Then perhaps he could look forward to happier times, which she hoped would include a wife and children, and not a whore named Kate.

"I thought you didn't know how to play poker?"

"I don't. But if I was a seer, I would make a fortune, would I not?"

"You would first need proper training from someone who understood the delicate art of the game." He looked at her provocatively as he egged her on.

Alex pretended to consider this information seriously. "Yes, that's true. I suppose Virgil would be an excellent instructor." It was hard to contain her laughter when she heard him issue a snort of irritation. "Wyatt too, but do you know who I should like to study from?"

"I'm afraid to ask." He muttered into his coffee cup.

"Milt of course. He would be the ultimate instructor."

"Keep it up and I shall be forced to spank you."

"Promise?" She replied eagerly with a twinkle of anticipation in her eyes.

He loved her ability to tease him and at the same time drive him mad sexually. "I'm going to die a happy man Alex, because I think you're going to kill me." He reached for his tobacco to roll a smoke.

"Enough about me." He said as sealed the paper with the tip of his tongue. "Tell me about yourself. How long were you married? Where did you live? What did your husband do for a living?" He needed to quickly change the subject before he gave into his desire to make love to her again.

"Gee, curious much!"

"Yes, very much." He replied sincerely.

Alex took a deep breath to steady her nerves. "I was married for three years. We lived in Portland, Maine. My husband was a… law officer. He was killed in the line of duty."

"Thirteen months ago?"

"Yes." She didn't want to lie to him, and was therefore trying her best to stick to the truth as much as possible.

"Any children?"

"No." She looked down at her empty plate suddenly finding the rose-pattern china interesting.

"Would you like to have children, Alex?" He knew he was pushing her, but he may never have the opportunity to ask her again, and the need to hear her answer to this question was suddenly very important.

Her smile was sad and uneasy when she looked up at him. "Very much."

He watched as she swallowed back her tears before she asked, "How about you? Any children?"

"No. But I would have embraced the opportunity if it had presented itself." He lit his cigarette. "May I have that glass of whiskey now?" He nodded to the amber glass on the dresser behind her.

She reached back to grab the glass and the ashtray. "Do you often drink in the morning John?"

"I drink at every opportunity, Alex. It is the only thing that gets me through each day." He tipped back his head and empted the glass in one swallow.

"Do you suppose I could replace your drinking while visiting with you? Perhaps I could be your reason to get through each day?"

Her question took him by surprise. Kate had never asked him to stop drinking. He could tell Alex was trying to color her question with humor, but the seriousness of her plea was painfully apparent. "All consumptives drink, Alex." He replied frankly. "It is either whiskey or laudanum. They are the only two things that kill the pain in my chest and throat."

"You are in pain now?" She asked with one brow raised.

He began to give her the answer he normally gave whenever anyone asked if he was in pain, which was always, yes. He had been in almost constant pain for the last eight years. The cough too was a close and faithful friend that he medicated heavily with whiskey. He started to reply when he realized he felt no pain and no urge to cough either. Unconsciously, he rubbed his chest. "I'm… No, I'm not in pain now. This is funny."

"Funny? I would think you'd be pleased." She was finding it hard not to laugh at his confusion. She would have to tell him and do it very soon.

"I am, but it's strange. It must have been the laudanum. I don't often take it but Dr. Goodfellow was very insistent last night."

She ran her hand along his arm. "It doesn't matter, as long as you are feeling better John. I was very concerned about you."

"And was it this concern that inspired you to come to my bed?"

"Precisely."

"If I had known this, I would have gotten sick days ago. Think of all the time we've wasted." He entwined his fingers with hers.

"You will have to work very _hard_ to make up for that lost time, Mr. Holliday."

"I shall endeavor to fulfill your _deepest_ desires, Miss. Montgomery." He replied with a sensual grin as he brushed her hand against his lips.

Alex bit her lip to stifle an embarrassed giggle. "You're a wicked devil, John Holliday."

"Yes, I believe I am."

* * *

**Excerpt from Alex's Journal - September 1881 (Day 15 - Morning**)

**(Written on a piece of stationary from J.H. Holliday's desk.) **

_I write this now with hopes of piecing it into my journal later. If for some reason I am unable to complete my mission I leave this as a record of my actions. _

_God forgive me, I have done the unmentionable. But I find it hard to be sorry for what I did. Mostly I am worried about the repercussions it will have, but sorry…no I am not. There will be a price to pay when I return home to my time, but for now I will secretly rejoice in the only truly good thing I have done since coming to this time. _

_John Henry Holliday will not die of tuberculosis and if I can manipulate the situation further he will live to see his grandchildren flourish. _


	23. Dressing Room Promises

**Chapter 22 – Dressing Room Promises **

She waited in his room as he washed and shaved. While he was in the bath down the hall, she dressed and bound her hair. There was just one item she was missing and after several minutes of looking around the bed and then under it, she finally found what she had been looking for – her tragically torn panties. They no longer resembled woman's lingerie. They were now an unrecognizable display of satin and lace.

John had indeed been very eager last night.

"It was an honorable death." She told them before stuffing them in a hidden pocket of her dress next to the letter from Malachi. Thankfully, she had several pairs of underwear hidden with her patrolling clothing and gear. Similar to the American Express saying, she never left home without extra pairs of panties because she didn't always have time to pack for an extended stay before a hunt.

When John returned to the room Alex figured it would only take him a few minutes to dress. She needed to shop for a few things to make dinner, and then they could make their way back to the Oriental. She hoped to have time to do a little _'cleaning'_ at the Clanton Ranch before serving the evening meal. There was also Malachi to consider. She would need to block his entrance into John's room, and probably the Earps should be protected as well. She hoped to be able to pick up the herbs she needed for a protection spell at the Miller's store. It was going to be a very busy day.

An hour later and Alex was still watching John put on his underwear. He had taken forever to choose a suit and shirt. Now he was lingering over his hair and what jewelry to wear. Another ten minutes of this and she would leave without him.

"What in heaven are you doing now?" She was slumped down in the upholstered chair. She had already smoked two cigarettes and was rolling her third.

"Alex, there is an art to dressing well." He glanced over his shoulder at her as he eyed her attire. "Evidently one I shall have to teach you."

"What does that mean?" She snapped before lighting her smoke.

"We can discuss the details at a later date, but for the moment you should consider that dressing well takes time." He had chosen two waistcoats with a paisley design, one in yellow and the other in a dark blue, and was standing in front of a mirror as he held one then the other in front of his shirt while he tried to decide which one he would wear.

"John, an entire bridal party can dress faster than you." She was quickly losing what little patience she still had.

"With or without the mother of the bride?" He replied with feigned sincerity and a small smirk.

Alex was finding the situation less entertaining as the hour grew later. "You're doing this on purpose aren't you? It's an act. You're only pretending to get dressed hoping I'll get tired of waiting and suggest we just return to bed rather then go out."

"Is it working?" He asked while looking in his closet again. He had chosen the vest in deep blue, but then changed his mind about the shirt he wanted to wear.

She thought about it for a moment as she admired his dark gray suit pants and jacket he had chosen to wear. The pants he had finally put on. Now if she could only get the top half of his body clothed. "Actually, yes I think it is. I'll just sit in your bed until Virgil comes looking for me."

He looked briefly in her direction, replied, "Hateful child," before turning back to look in the closet. He had decided on a white shirt instead of a colored one. "Go in the top drawer of the dresser and get me a handkerchief." Perhaps if he gave her something to do it would distract her and sooth her irritation. As quick as he could he began to button the shirt.

Alex was happy to comply as she made her way over to the dresser, wondering if she began to toss clothing at him if it would hasten his routine. She was not surprised to find his dresser drawer was as neat and orderly as his closet. John certainly was consistent.

"Here." When she gave him the folded hanky she had found, she couldn't help but notice the beautifully embroider initials "JHH" on one corner. "Did Kate embroider that for you?"

"No." he chuckled softly as the corners of his mustache turned upward as he smiled. "Kate couldn't sow beans in an empty field. My cousin Mattie, from my home town in Georgia, sent this to me along with several others."

"She sews very well."

"She does everything very well. I look at her as my polar opposite. " He said bitterly, letting his smile fall away as quickly as it appeared. He paused from dressing to look at her. "Have you ever met anyone like that? Someone who is perfect in just about every way?"

The tone of his voice revealed not only his frustration to cope with his virtuous relative but also his longing to commiserate with someone who had the same experience. "Yes, I have." she replied, "My Mother. She was perfection."

"Was?" He asked. A light gray cravat lay draped in his hand.

"She died when I was thirteen. She and my father were both killed … in an accident. That's how I came to study aboard. After my parents died I went to live with my aunt and uncle in Paris."

He looked at her with new understanding and insight. Apparently, Alex and he had a lot in common. "It is hard to lose a parent. It must be twice as hard to lose both. My own dear mother was lost to me when I was fifteen. She died of the very thing that is slowly killing me."

She moved closer to him, gently took the material from his hand and began to tie it around his collar. "And what of your father?"

When he glanced down at her, for just a moment she saw his darker half emerge before he regained control. "My father…" He sighed softly while considering what to say. "My father is a man who has a strong tendency to think of only himself most of the time. Although, in all fairness, there have been exceptions when his character was beyond reproach." His hands reached for her shoulders; his fingers working back and forth against the tight muscles he found there. "I love my father Alex, as a son should love his father, but as a man I do not like him very much. Does that make sense to you?"

She had finished tying his cravat. "Yes, it does." she replied tenderly.

His head bent toward her until his soft-full lips brush lightly against hers. When she leaned toward his body he wrapped his arms around her small frame and kissed her with abandon.

She broke the embrace first. In another moment she would be pulling him back to bed if they continued. "If you get your shirt wrinkled I shall have to wait another hour for you to find a new one, and you don't have enough tobacco to keep me pacified that long."

He laughed softly. "What a wonder you are. I don't think I have laughed with anyone as much as I have with you."

Her smile unexpectedly faded and he caught the gleam of tears in her eyes before she looked away. "What is it, Alex. Have I said something wrong?"

"No. It's nothing." She quickly wiped her tears away.

"Here, take this. I'll get another one." He placed his hanky in her hand before he clasped her chin and turned her face toward his. "What has you so despondent?"

"John, promise me something… if there is ever a time when you should lose faith in me, promise you'll try to remember how we laughed together and how good it was between us. Can you do that?"

His eyebrows pinched inward as he scrutinized her expression. "There's something you're not telling me. Is there someone else?" He felt a sharp pain in his chest that had nothing to do with his illness. Was she involved with another man? Just the thought alone was enough to send him into a silence rage.

She smiled up at him. "Heavens no. There is no one more important to me then you are. It's just that sometimes reality has a way of crushing your dreams. I don't want you to feel I misled you."

Relief flooded through him upon hearing her admission. _I'm important to her_, he thought. But following that happy thought was the realization that her cryptic words also had a fatalistic meaning. "Alex, I don't understand what you mean."

"I know. Let it be for now." She stood on her toes to place a kiss on his mouth.

He reluctantly agreed but at some point in the very near future he would demand that she reveal whatever she had been hiding since her mysterious arrival in Tombstone.

* * *

**A/N: Upload problems galore!!! Hope things are fixed soon. Please leave me a review to let me know what you think of the story so far.**


	24. Old Hens and Sashay

**A/N: This chapter is another transition chapter. I'm sorry to say it doesn't have much action, but it leads into some interesting changes, which you will see in the next chapter. From here on out the story begins to climb the crest of the roller coaster and from there it will pick up some speed.**

**For those of you who have been wondering… yes, Doc suspects something has changed in his health. But from what I have read about consumption the disease often made its victims very sick only to recover again later. So Doc's set back would not have been a new thing for him. Besides, he's not thinking about his illness right now. Typical male, (Victorian or modern they're all the same) he's thinking of other things…**

**Yes, the vampire Angel from the television show is the same Angel in my story. Oh, by the way… he's bringing a 'friend' with him when he finally makes his appearance to save Alex from her historical mishap. I just hope they both arrive in time.**

**Don't forget to read and review. Thank you!

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**Chapter 23 – Old Hens and Sashay**

The day turned out to be a good one, even though Doc fully expected to be coughing blood the longer he was on his feet. He was very aware of Dr. Goodfellow's order to remain in bed for at least two weeks, but at the moment he felt better than he had in years, and while his health remained stable he wanted to spend every moment he could with Alex.

There was also the disturbing scene at the Clanton ranch last night that still needed to be addressed. He wanted to discuss the night's events with Wyatt as soon as he could, and he was sure Wyatt would be very anxious to speak with him about what they had seen, and rightly so. The images he had witnessed would give him nightmares for many years. _What the hell had happened last night?_

Alex and Doc walked arm-in-arm to the butcher's where Alex purchased several chickens, and then arranged for them to be delivered to the Oriental. Their next stop was to the Miller's general store. She purchased a pound of sugar and two pounds of flour. After a moments consideration she added a package of tobacco to her order choosing the brand Doc always smoked.

"What do you plan on making, Darlin'?" He picked up the items from the counter. She immediately took the pound of sugar from his arms, leaving him the flour to carry back to the saloon. The tobacco he slipped into his pocket.

"Apple dumplings." She replied while perusing the fresh herbs. "I have a bushel of apples in the kitchen waiting to be turned into a dessert. Would you care to help wash and peel, Mr. Holliday?" She cast a flirtatious glance in his direction as she walked back to the store's counter with a large quantity of sage and lavender.

"I'm beginning to believe you wish to ruin my reputation, Miss. Montgomery."

She shook her head at his tongue-in-cheek humor. "Please add these herbs to the bill, Mr. Miller." She watched the store's proprietor wrapped the herbs in brown paper.

"Will there be anything else, Miss?" Mr. Miller asked anxiously. The pairing of Doc Holliday and the Oriental's new cook was causing a subtle stir among his customers in the store.

"No, thank you." She picked up the neatly wrapped bundles and settled it comfortable in her arms. There was a fluttering of whispers behind her and she turned to find several women standing in a huddle. The critical expressions they wore as they glared at her and Doc were painfully apparent.

"Is there anything you need today, Mr. Holliday?" Mr. Miller asked.

"No, thank you. I bid you a good day." His hand lightly touched the brim of his hat as he turned away to silently confront the group of gossiping women. He gave them a hard stare, and then he touched hand to brim once more. "Ladies." He added drolly. He offered Alex his arm and proceeded to escort her out the door and into the street.

Once outside she began to giggle. "Tell me again how I would ruin your reputation?"

"I'm glad to see you find the situation amusing. I, however, find those gossiping-old hens to be damn nuisance."

The clipped, irritated tone of his voice caught her attention and when she turned to look up at him she noted the twitching muscles in his jaw. "I can see that." She was still laughing about the encounter. "Surely, you don't take their opinions to heart, John."

"It is not myself I am concerned about, but you Alex. I don't care what they may think or say about me. My reputation is tarnished and I am reconciled to that fate, but they have no right to judge you by association."

"Then perhaps we should place a bag over your head when next we venture out. Your identity will be hidden, and my good reputation will remain intact."

He glanced down at her with a dark expression but was instantly relieved when he saw the humor dancing in her eyes. "I believe you have just earned that spanking I was threatening earlier."

She giggled again. "I think Virgil would get very distraught if we were to continue our affair in the kitchen."

"He would indeed. But I seem to remember Milt mentioning a strong lock on your bedroom door. Would you care to test its strength?"

The heat in his eyes left her feeling very weak in the knees. "If we hurry I will still have time to start dinner." She replied with a grin.

He answered with a husky groan and increased the pace of his stride.

The Oriental was fairly quiet when Alex and Doc arrived. There was only one card game taking place and the other patrons seemed to be enjoying a moment of peace as they calmly sipped their drinks.

Doc was not so calm when he looked about the room and saw no signs of Virgil, Wyatt or Morgan. He quickly made his way to the bar. "Milt, where's Wyatt?"

A small frown of concern settled on the bartender's face. "Doc, are you feeling well enough to be out of bed?"

Doc hastily brushed the other man's concern aside. "I am quite recovered, thank you for asking. Have you seen Wyatt and Virgil today?"

"Yes, they were here earlier. All three brothers went to take care of some business." He glanced nervously at Alex who was standing next to Doc.

Doc interpreted Milt's subtle message. "I see. How long ago?"

"Two hours at least, Doc."

Alex felt her apprehension continue to grow as she listened to the men talk. She heard Doc curse softly and he now seemed to be thinking something over. "What is wrong?" She finally asked him knowing full well what had him so worried.

The look of unease on her face told him he was not being very discreet. "It's probably nothing. Wyatt had a lead he wanted to follow regarding Mattie's murder. I had expressed an interest in going with him. I guess he didn't want to interrupt my rest." He placed his hand on the small of her back and pushed her gently towards the kitchen. "Let's put your parcels away."

Once in the kitchen Alex saw that someone, probably Milt, had cleaned up the kitchen from the night before. She began to arrange her bake ware and spices for making her apple dumplings and set them to one side. The chickens had already been delivered and she would place them into the oven first before she began to peal the apples. All the while she was desperately trying to think of an excuse to sneak away from Doc. Wyatt and his brothers were walking into a death trap and if anything happened to them she would never forgive herself. Then she remembered Milt had said they left two hours ago. It was at least a twenty-minute ride to the Clanton ranch. If there was confrontation it was happening right now and there was very little she could do about it.

"So, what are you planning for dinner?" Doc had stayed to keep her company. He placed the flour and sugar on the table and was now examining the lavender and sage she bought.

"Baked chicken, Brussels sprouts, corn, mash potatoes and apple dumplings for dessert." She called over her shoulder as retrieved the pans she needed to bake the chickens.

Confused, Doc continued to stare at the lavender and sage. "What's the lavender and sage for? Are you planning on making a sashay for your room?"

"Exactly. I plan on making one for your room and also for Virgil, Wyatt and Morgan too." She had the chickens in the sink and was busy washing them with fresh water.

"To what purpose?"

She stopped her preparations and turned to look at him. He held a piece of each herb in either hand as he smelled each, made a face and tossed them back on the table. "It will protect you from bad dreams."

"It's funny, but I don't think I will have any more bad dreams with you around." He answered with a silky grin.

"Perhaps, but who will comfort Wyatt and the others?" She teased.

He moved to stand behind her so he could feel her body next to his. "Let them find their own little cook to keep them company." He replied as he rapped his arms around her waist, placed a kiss on the side of her neck while pausing to breathe in the aroma of her freshly washed hair.

From the outer room someone shouted. Doc raised his head and looked towards the kitchen door. There was another shout followed by the sound of chairs and tables being pushed across the saloon's wooden floor.

"I better go see what's happening. Stay here." He ordered firmly as he turned and walked out of the kitchen closing the door behind him.

Ignoring his command, Alex reached for the dishtowel to dry her hands as she moved to follow Doc. Her eyes fell on the lavender and sage sitting on the table, instinctively she broke a branch from each and held them in her hand as she walked out to see what was going on.


	25. A Pain in the Behan

**A/N: For those of you who happen to like John Behan, I offer my most humble apologies for this chapter. I just couldn't seem to help myself.

* * *

**

**Chapter 24 – A Pain In The Behan**

The first thing she saw was a divided room. Several patrons were grouped on one side of the room, Milt and Doc stood on the other. In the middle stood a very disheveled looking Sheriff Behan. He had not shaved for a number of days, nor had he combed his hair, which allowed her to see the large red marks that peppered his scalp. It looked to Alex like he had been pulling out his hair by the roots. He wore no jacket and his shirt and vest were wrinkled and dirty, as if he had not changed his clothing for a number of days. His collar was unbuttoned and it looked like he had started to tie his cravat but never finished the task. Her eyes traveled lower over his body and she saw he wore no socks with his shoes.

Alex had previously categorized the county sheriff as impeccably dressed, and socially well mannered but his appearance today was a stark contrast to his normal attire. Unknown to Doc and the others, she was well aware of Behan's previous request to procure her affections for the evening, so she surmised he had a well-hidden crude side to his personality, which probably had a negative impact on his liaison with Josephine Marcus. That relationship had obviously dissolved. She knew Wyatt would have it no other way. Could it be that Behan's arrival at the Oriental and disturbing appearance had to do with his loss of the beautiful actress?

She took a step further into the room. She was now only a few feet behind Doc when the smell oozing from Behan hit her. She immediately covered her mouth and nose with her hand. It was not his body odor that perfumed the room. She could only liken the smell to something rotting. When he turned his head to look around the room she could see his eyes where covered by an opaque film.

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as cold dread raced through her body. She now knew what ailed the Sheriff.

"No worms will partake of my flesh. Can't you see that? Do you want to know why?" He cackled loudly and pointed a finger at Milt. "I will be in charge, not you. And certainly not you Holliday." He took a step closer to Doc and Alex saw him quickly rest his fingers on the handle of his gun.

"He said I could have it all. So, I've come to take back what was stolen from me! JOSIE!" He called loudly. "You belong to ME!" His hands pulled at his hair and Alex watched with horror as they came away with clumps of hair and bits of flesh attached.

He turned back toward Milt. "Get me a drink!" He ordered as he stumbled towards the bar.

"Mr. Behan, you don't look well at all sir. Perhaps you should go home and get some rest." Milt pleaded.

Behan stood in front of the bar slowly swaying back and forth. His mouth hung slightly open, as he appeared to be considering Milt's suggestion. "I can't. I can't sleep. Hour after hour I lay there, but I can't sleep. Where's my drink" His voice had taken on a whining tone.

Milt placed a glass of whiskey on the bar and quickly stepped back away from Behan's smell.

Doc went to move closer, but Alex reached for him first. He hadn't realized she was standing behind him and jumped, pulling his gun free of the holster. "I told you to stay in the kitchen." He whispered.

"Don't move any closer to him, please." She begged.

Their conversation had caught Behan's attention. "You." He screamed as he pointed a dirty finger at Alex. "He's coming for you." He walked towards them on visibly shaky legs.

"That's far enough." Doc had his gun aimed at Behan. "Get out of here now or I will send you out feet first in a pine box."

"Fuck you, Holliday." He laughed. "You can't hurt me. NOBODY CAN HURT ME NOW!" He screamed.

He took another step closer and Alex heard Doc thumb back the hammer on his gun.

"Your guns don't scare me, Holliday. Cause without them guns you're nothing but a skinny lunger."

"That may be so, but I can still send you to meet your maker Behan. I don't want to shoot an unarmed man, but I will if you don't leave now."

The patrons on the other side of the room had been watching in horrified silence. Alex now heard them push back against the tables to clear a path further away from Doc and Behan. Obviously, they expected gunfire to erupt any second.

Alex went to step around Doc, but he sidestepped in front of her. "Don't move." He hissed.

When Behan laughed again Alex almost gagged from the stench of his breath. "I want what's mine." He pointed at Alex. "And you are going to get what's yours."

From behind Doc's back Alex slowly raised the lavender and sage she had been holding until Behan could see what it was. His eyes widen with fright. He screamed as if in pain, and took a step back.

"Get out." She commanded and threw the herbs at him, hitting squarely in the chest.

He screamed again and fell backwards hitting the floor with a loud thud. The herbs were now sitting on the waistband of his pants and a small cloud of smoke was slowly rising from around the cluster. This time there was no doubt the herbs were causing him pain. Behan's screams were terrible. He rolled over onto his side, jumped to a standing position, turned, and ran out the door.

There was a commotion from the street as Behan passed several women who cried out when they saw him, and then he ran directly passed Wyatt and his two brothers as they made their way towards the front door of the saloon.

"What the hell was that all about?" Virgil yelled. "Doc, what happened?" He saw Doc had drawn his weapon and then he noticed the frightened customers as they cowered in one corner of the room.

"That gentlemen, was our illustrious county sheriff who is undoubtedly off his rocker." He holstered his gun and placed one arm around Alex who was visibly shivering from the encounter.

"What was wrong with him, other than the need for a bath? God, I can't believe the stink." Morgan covered his mouth as if Behan was still in the room.

"Who cares as long as he stays downwind." Doc replied as he hugged Alex close and placed a kiss on top of her head.

Milt looked over at his dazed customers. "Drinks are on the house folks. Sorry for the disturbance, but things are back to normal now."

Slowly they wandered over to the bar for their badly needed drink. Morgan was quickly picking up the furniture and moving the tables back to their original positions.

"Alex, are you all right?" Wyatt asked as he walked over to where Alex and Doc stood.

"I'm…" As glad as she was to see Wyatt and his brothers unharmed she was still deeply unsettled by Behan's visit. She turned her face towards Doc's shoulder unable to give Wyatt an answer.

"Come on Sweetheart, let's get you a large brandy." Doc whispered in her ear.

He sat her down on a nearby chair. Milt brought over a glass of brandy and handed it to Doc who then gave it to Alex. "Sip it slowly." He suggested. "How did you know lavender and sage would upset him like that?" He asked as he rolled two cigarettes, one for Alex and one for himself.

She shook her head. "It was the only thing I had in my hand."

"Well, somebody better go after him and lock him up before he hurts someone." Milt suggested as he went back to tend bar.

Alex suddenly jumped. "Oh, my God! Wyatt, he was looking for Josie. We have to go get her." She started to stand but Doc placed his hands on her shoulders.

"Stay put." He ordered. "Wyatt will find her." He turned toward his friend. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, you better stay here just in case he comes back." He was halfway to the front door with Virgil and Morgan walking right behind. "Virgil, I know just where she is." He said as they walked out.

* * *

**Excerpt from Alex's Journal - September 1881 (Day 15 - Midday)**

_Finally, a moment to myself, and time to wash and change my clothes. So much has happened in the last few hours. I must write this down while events are fresh in my mind._

_Things have progressively gotten worst. The Clantons and Johnny Ringo have been turned, which probably means that most of the Cowboy gang as been turned as well. And just when I thought things couldn't get worse, we had a visit from Sheriff Behan this morning that I won't soon forget. The renowned sheriff is on his way to becoming a member of the walking dead. Funny term if you think about it, but not so funny when you see it for yourself. I'm not sure if he had been a willing participant of Malachi's activities or if the poor man was forced to become involved. But at sometime during the last week, Malachi or one of the others has been feeding Behan vampire blood. I have personally never witness this supernatural transformation, but have only been instructed about it while in training. I was taught this is a form of control used on a human so the master vampire can have a daylight servant to be his eyes and ears. At first, the victim will feel exhilarated by the transfusion and willing drinks the second and third time from the host, but as the feeding progresses the body is slowly overcome by the demonic forces the blood contains and a fight ensues for control. The living flesh will slowly rot taking with it all mental and emotional sanity leaving behind a zombie. The vampire is able to then control this poor soul who is now trapped between two worlds. Once the zombie has fulfilled his purpose he or she is usually discarded. _

_The problem for a Guardian is a zombie is just as dangerous as a vampire because they are extremely volatile and unpredictable. Oh, and one more thing…they also smell like 3-day old road kill. _

_I managed to get rid of Behan and not blow my cover by tossing a cluster of lavender and sage on him. He screamed in pain and ran out the door. Now I must find him and put an end to his misery._

_Other than wanting to see his lost love, I'm not exactly sure what Behan was looking for when he came into the saloon. My guess would be that he was looking for Doc to see if Malachi's bite was as detrimental as it was suppose to be. Knowing Malachi as I do, he would want to be thorough and make sure Doc was out of the picture. I am curious if Malachi considers Doc a greater threat then Wyatt and his brothers and that was why he struck at him in such a way. Or perhaps, my dear late husband intends to return tonight and finish the job. God help us, and me, if Doc Holliday is turned into a vampire. My heart would never survive the pain and loss. I must make sure his room is protected or that he is never left alone at night. _

_Hopefully, Malachi will not attempt to enter the saloon. If he does, it would mean an outright war and that he is more than ready to fight. Up till now, we have been playing cat and mouse games. He knows I'm here but he continues to hide. Where he is hidden is the key that will allow me to end this. The Clanton ranch is now my prime goal. I will look there as soon as I am able to get away from the saloon. My illusion is a blessing and a curse. I am able to move about and investigate in the open, but I am also watched and protected by Doc and the others. How ironic that they should feel I am the one who needs protection._

_More than likely the Earps were expected at the Clanton ranch this afternoon. Thank God they decided to 'visit' during the day this time. Maybe Ike Clanton's encounter scared them enough to discourage them from wandering around in the dark. _

_One other note worthy item to mention: Behan delivered a message while he visited today. He told me Malachi would be coming for me. I think my illusion within the Oriental will soon come crashing down. When it does, I will not only be exposing my new friends to more danger, but will also lose my new lover as well. When Doc finds out I've been deceitful he will hate me for sure. _

_I wonder if it would help cushion the blow if he knew I loved him, or would it only make the betrayal worst for him later?_


	26. Cousins

**Chapter 25 – Cousins**

After Alex had regained her composure, Doc suggested she return to the kitchen and finish preparing dinner. He kept her company while she cooked. He even peeled a dozen or more apples with her as they sat at the table together. They talked little about the disturbing events. Things had gotten spooky enough without mauling over the details. Instead, he continued in his pursuit of becoming more acquainted with her over a pot of tea.

"Tell me some more about your family?" He asked her as he finished peeling an apple in one long continuous strip.

This was the fifth apple he had skinned that way. Alex could concede it as talent, painfully slow time-consuming talent, by the time he finished one apple she had peeled three. "What would you like to know, in particular?"

"Do you have any siblings?" He glanced at her over the growing mound of apple peels that stood on the table between them. After their visit from Behan, Alex had taken a moment to freshen up and change into a clean dress. Instead of leaving her hair in a braid down her back she had arranged it into a practical coiffure that was swept off her neck. Long wisps of curls fell in a pleasing way from her temples and behind her ears to softly dance against the skin on her neck, a long-naked neck that was proving to be a terrible distraction for him. The more he stared at it the more he thought about having his way with her right in the middle of the apple peels.

"No. Next question, please." She gave him a playful grin.

"I see. Something else we have in common. After your parents died where did you live in Paris?"

"Actually, I only stayed in Paris for about two months. When the new school semester began I attended an all girls boarding school in Shrewsbury, England." As she talked she kept her eyes on the apple she was peeling. If she had looked up she would have seen the shocked expression on Doc's face. "I lived there until I was eighteen. I met my husband when I was nineteen and we married shortly thereafter."

"Your Aunt and Uncle shipped you off to boarding school two months after your parents died?" The tone in his voice alarmed her and she raised her eyes from her task. He stared back at her frozen halfway through another long apple peel.

"The situation was difficult for them, John." She heard him grunt with disapproval before she could continue. "My uncle was my father's older brother. He was ten years his senior. I was thirteen; they had already raised their children and didn't want the burden of raising another child. At first I was hurt but after awhile I understood."

"Cold and heartless." He said frankly. "I can't imagine how you must have felt." He shook his head and continued to peel his apple.

"It was a very nice, very expensive girl's school. I received the best education money could buy."

"You should have been with your family. If you had been raised in the South you would never have been discarded to live alone in a boarding school."

"Are Southern people so much different in values?" She inquired.

"Most definitely. We take care of our own, Alex. I might have been an only child, but I was raised with my cousins and their extended family. I was never alone. Especially after my mother passed. My father acted like a horse's ass and desecrated her memory, but my family on my mother's side took me in and gave me the support I needed at that time."

The words spilled so harshly from his mouth she was afraid to upset him further by continuing their conversation. "You were very fortunate, John." She finally added. He kept his eyes lowered and Alex could tell by the twitching muscles in his jaw that he was still angry with his father. "I am, however, very sorry to hear your father has a tail." She said sweetly.

He looked up quickly and laughed. "Do any other members of his household have alarming appendages?" She added just to make him laugh again.

"I wish I had your sense of humor. I might have turned out better."

"I like you very much just the way you are." She replied.

He raised one eyebrow at her. "There are some who would strenuously disagree with you."

"Fuck'em." She said bluntly.

Doc tossed his head back and laughed loudly. "Did you learn _that_ in boarding school?"

"No, I learned that from my husband. It was one of his favorite expressions, especially when others disapproved of his actions or motives."

"A man of well chosen words. I think I might have liked your husband, Alexis. Although, I still would have tried to spirit you away from him. Where does his family live?"

"Scotland." This statement seemed to surprise him as well. "Malachi, my late husband, was born and raised in Pennsylvania, but his father was a native Scot. There was an uncle, on his father's side, who still lived in Scotland, when he died the ancestral home was passed to Malachi's older brother, who lives there now with his family."

"So, tell me your married name."

"McCulloch."

"Why then don't you use your married name?"

"It has to do with the division of the family estate and a stipulation in Malachi's will. If we had children, things would have been different. My children and I would have been entitled to share the house."

"I don't see how your married name would be considered a threat to the family estate."

"Well, part of it has to do with my family's estate and my inheritance when my father and mother died. I was the only heir of their estate. After the life insurance company settled, and after the lawyers took their share, my inheritance amounted to a nice sum. Malachi's family didn't want my wealth to have any influence on their family unless we had children. Scots are funny when it comes to aligning houses to build financial strength. It's a very serious matter. I don't think the family felt the merging of our households was a good idea. One way of assuring that was to stipulate that I change my name if our marriage was to end, either by death or divorce, and if no heir was produced to take up the family name. It's complicated and unfeeling, but I can understand how important the division of an estate can be."

"Sounds like more cold, heartless, Yankee manipulation to me."

Now it was her turn to laugh. "I believe you maybe correct, John."

"And your family in California, how are you related to them?"

_Ah, now we come to the meaty part of the interview_, Alex thought. All his causal questions about her family had been leading up to this. Obviously, Wyatt and his brothers had checked out her story and found it to be complete nonsense. She didn't want to intentional mislead Doc, but she saw no other way around it. She took a deep breath and prepared to lie through her teeth to a man who was slowly coming to trust her. _I'm sorry, Doc. I hope you will forgive me someday. _

"They are cousins on my father's side." She replied as normally as she could.

Doc kept his head slightly lowered as he continued to peel his apple, but he let his eyes glance upward just enough to see her face. It was a maneuver he learned while playing poker. You didn't always want to make direct eye contact with your opponent because in doing so you might indirectly reveal your position within the game, so you learned to look at your opposition without being too obvious. What he saw when he glanced at Alex did not surprise him: her hands fumbled and almost dropped her knife, she frowned slightly, licked her lips before she shifted in her chair. Body movements that told him she was lying again. He already knew she was hiding something about the real reason for her visit to Tombstone. When she continued with her deceitful story, he was disappointed to learn she didn't trust him enough to finally tell him the truth.

He would never understand how a woman could share her body with a man in the most intimate of encounters and still be unable to trust him afterwards. Didn't she know by now he would protect her with his life? That whatever she was running from would never get close enough to hurt her while he lived and breathed. Actually, he should insist that she confess just to give him the chance to prepare if danger were coming his way. It was his right, as her lover and protector.

"I see." He replied.

Something about his tone warned Alex he was annoyed about something. Her first reflex was to ask if something was upsetting him, but that would only leave him an opening to interrogate her more, so she pretended all was well and continued to peel her apple.

"What type of business do your cousins conduct?" He put down his apple and knife and began to roll another smoke. In the course of their afternoon talk he had almost filled the ashtray.

"Oh, I'm not sure, really. Something to do with land development and mining I think."

"Hmmm." He lit his smoke. "Alex, do you have anything you wish to… oh, how should I say this, anything you wish to share or confess to me?" His tone was soft, calm, but firm.

"What do you mean?" She rose from the table to gather the peeled and quartered apples and carry them to the counter. With her back turned to Doc she could take a moment to calm the nerves in her stomach.

"What I'm talking about is your blatant and badly constructed lies you have been telling since your arrival." His tone was so even but forceful he couldn't have startled her more if he had screamed at her.

She whirled around to face him. "Doc, trust me when I say this… you do not want to know why I'm here." She half expected him to rise to his feet and force the truth from her with intimidation or force, but she saw he was still seated and comfortably positioned with his ankle crossed over his knee and one hand holding his cigarette

"No, Darlin that is exactly what I want to know. Now, Alex my patience has run very thin. I also believe my new position within your life entitles me to not only the respect, but also the responsibility to prepare if danger is pursuing you and coming my way."

She knew he was one hundred percent right. He was entitled to know the truth, and because she had willing let herself become entrapped by her desire for him she owed him an explanation. But how should she begin?

"John, you're right." She sat back down at the table. "But let me warn you… ignorance is bliss. If you want to continue our relationship as it is then please don't make me tell you."

He reached for her hand and couldn't believe how hard she was trembling when he touched her. "Alexis, how bad could it be?"

Tears sprang to her eyes. "You're not going to believe me and afterwards you will never speak to me again."

She was scared. Now he was worried. "That will never happen, I swear." He said softly.

"Oh, yes, it will! That's why I'm asking you to reconsider. Please, leave things as they are. I will have to leave soon and I don't want you to think badly about the time we spent together."

He thought about her offer for a moment more. The tears in her eyes affecting him in a way that no woman had ever done, but he couldn't let her go home and not know the truth. "No. I need to know. It's that important to me, Alex."

She nodded her head, too choked by the emotions she felt to voice her consent. She was just reaching for a sip of her tea, when Virgil opened the kitchen door and burst into the room. "Doc, Wyatt and I need to talk to you."

Alex felt immediate relief.

Doc, however, did not. "Goddamn it Virgil!" He was instantly on his feet and in a full rage. "You have the timing of an ill received bout of lice on a groom's wedding night!"

"What I'd do?" Virgil asked innocently.

"Do you ever fucking knock? You can see the door is closed, and you were well aware Alex and I were in here!"

"What are you two doing in here that I should knock on a kitchen door?" Virgil yelled back.

"Look around! What does it look like we were doing? Not that it's any of your damn business if Alex and I decided to go a round or two on the kitchen table. Ah, hell…." He tossed up his hands and stormed out of the kitchen and into the saloon.

Virgil stood stunned by Doc's outburst. He watched as the gambler stomped over to the table where Wyatt was sitting, and then he turned to look at Alex. "I interrupted something important, didn't I?"

"Yes and no, Virgil." She rose from the table and smoothed her skirts. "Don't let it trouble you. Doc might be upset for a while, but I'm glad you came in when you did. You may have just saved what friendship we have."

* * *

Wyatt had found Josie at the cottage she was renting and after several minutes of intense discussion he convinced her to pack her things and move to the Grande Hotel. On the way back, they stopped by the cottage Wyatt had shared with Mattie and after packing a few of his personal items in a bag, he also moved into the hotel taking an adjoining room next to Josie. 

Both Morgan and Virgil had returned home to see if their spouses were safe and to inform them to stay inside for the rest of the day.

Alex couldn't have been happier now that everyone was safe and sound. Now all she had to do was sneak away from Doc. However, sneaking away from Doc was not going to be easy. He was suddenly very protective of her and had already made it clear she was to stay with him at the boarding house from now on. But she desperately needed to get back to the Clanton ranch and take care of the nest of vampire. There was also a very good possibility she would find Malachi at the ranch as well. Things could be neatly rapped up if she could manage to lock them all in the barn or house and then set it on fire. Silently, she sent a small hint heavenward.

The three Earps regrouped later in the afternoon and spent several hours looking for Behan, but he seemed to have disappeared. Alex strongly suspected Behan would be spending most of his days either underground or in the confines of a dark room. His sensitivity to light would increase as his condition progressed.

The evening meal was served without incident. Alex was particularly glad Doc, Wyatt, Virgil and Morgan stayed at the saloon to drink and discuss the day's events. She was able to over hear snatches of conversation as she worked. She learned that Wyatt and his brothers had ridden to the Clanton ranch that morning but when they arrived the property was deserted. The only life they found were several cows and horses grazing in the corral.

She was still trying to figure a way to sneak away from Doc when out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of a familiar form as it entered the saloon. She had been collecting dishes from a table of miners. Her arms where dangerously full of desert plates and coffee cups. She turned her head to the left and glanced towards the front door, and then she turned back towards the table and picked up another dirty dish when she realized who was standing only ten feet away from her.

She let the dishes fall, creating a tremendous crash that disturbed the entire saloon. Doc was immediately on his feet, his hand reaching for his gun, but Alex didn't notice. She turned, took three running steps and flew into Angel's waiting arms.

"Hi, Alex. Sorry I'm a little late." His voice was as nonchalance as if he was late meeting her at the café where they often had coffee before the evening patrol.

It took her a moment to swallow the block of emotion that lodged in her throat, but she finally managed to croak in his ear, "No problem, it's only been 121 years, 2 weeks and 1 day. I'm not too terribly upset." He set her on her feet and held her at arms length so he could get a good look at her.

"You look like hell."

"And you look like…" she stopped in mid-sentence as she revaluated her smart comeback. Her eyes roamed over his form. He was wearing the latest style of clothing for the period. His suit was finely made of dark-gray wool, with a blue and white striped shirt, navy blue vest made of silk and matching cravat. His black boots matched his black wide-brim hat that was very similar to the one Doc wore. "You look very handsome in those clothes Angel." She admitted with more than just a hint of feminine delight revealed in the tone of her voice.

His face lit up with one of his rare smiles. "Do you really think so? I always did prefer this style of dress back in my day." He ran his hand over the lapel of his jacket as he smoothed an imaginary wrinkle.

She nodded her head. "Very handsome."

"What about me Pet, don't I get a hello too?" He stepped out from behind Angel so that Alex would finally pay attention to him as well. He was also dressed as stylishly as Angel in a black suit, white shirt and red vest and cravat. His hat and boots matched Angel's.

"William." She cried and tossed her arms around his neck, landing a soft, wet kiss on his cheek for good measure. "You came as well."

"You know I couldn't let tall, dark and stoic have all the fun." He inclined his head towards Angel. "So I thought I'd come along and make sure my little…" he leaned in close to her ear, "What am I to you again?"

"Cousin." She whispered.

"Right. So, I thought I'd come along and make sure my little cousin was properly rescued."

"Alex, how about introducing us to your family." Wyatt had risen from his table and he and Doc were now approaching.

Alex turned and Wyatt saw how radiantly happy she was to have her family finally arrive. "Wyatt, these are my cousins from Northern California, Angel and William Montgomery. Angel and William please meet the men who have been diligently looking after my welfare, Mr. Wyatt Earp and Dr. John Holliday."

Angel gave her a sideways glance before he received the outstretched hands of the two very historical figures. William also seemed to hesitate before following through with the ritual.

"See Wyatt, I told you they'd come." She turned to look at Angel. "Wyatt was afraid he would be stuck with my bad cooking for eternity. I firmly believe he thought I was a runaway, or some such nonsense. Is that not right, Wyatt?"

"Alex! Your cousins will think we've mistreated you."

"On the contrary, Angel. They have been very good to me. Come and meet Wyatt's brothers." She slipped her hand under Angel's elbow and led him to the table were Virgil and Morgan waited.

"Virgil and Morgan Earp, my cousins, Angel and William Montgomery."

"Hello." Virgil mumbled as he shook hands.

Morgan was more outgoing. "It's been a pleasure to have Alex here."

"William and I appreciate you looking after her." Angel replied. "The family had been very worried." He gave Alex a small but meaningful glance and she knew she had put him through a great deal of stress and worry.

"Well, why don't you have a seat and I'll get everyone a drink." Wyatt offered.

Angel and William both ordered beers and took a seat at the table with the men.

"I'll be right back. I have to finish cleaning up the mess I just made." Alex quickly stepped away to clean up the broken dishes from the floor. She felt Doc's eyes on her and she returned his gaze. His face was expressionless. The perfect poker face for the perfect gambler, but Alex was learning to read his hidden emotion no matter what façade he portrayed. His hands were busy rolling a smoke but his mind was completely on her. She could see he was worried, and a small but turbulent whirlwind of emotion was quickly growing inside him. He knew their time together was coming to an end, and the thought was driving him to a slow and painful panic.

She gave him a small smile and a wink. His expression never altered but his eyes brighten and she knew her silent message had been well received. When he raised the freshly rolled smoke to his lips to seal the paper she looked away and focused her attention on cleaning up the broken dishes.

Once in the kitchen she tossed the broken china in the trash bin under the counter. She no sooner stood up and smoothed her skirts when she felt his two hands touch her shoulders and turn her around. He cupped her face and kissed her so tenderly she felt tears come to her eyes.

Her arms encircled his waist and reached around the holster and gun he always wore as she buried her face in the warm cloth of his jacket. "Don't do this John. It's not time yet." She told him.

He didn't answer her, but instead kissed her again, only harder this time. His hand passed over her hair before settled protectively around one breast. His face burrowed against her cheek and she heard him breathe deeply. Then he suddenly straightened, turned and walked out of the kitchen without saying a word.

The current of air from his departing form sent a chill over her face, and that was when she felt the tears he had left behind.


	27. Opposition

**Chapter 26 – Opposition**

"Ok, what took you so damn long to get here?" Alex was sitting at the small table in her room. Angel sat across from her and William sat on her bed. This was the first opportunity they had to talk in private. She was trying very hard not to let loose her temper, at least not until she heard Angel's explanation.

He gave her an exasperated look while raising one finger to point in her direction. "Let me remind you of our conversation regarding time and how it's a fourth dimension thing and tricky to maneuver."

Alex knew he was annoyed but she had no intention of letting go. She had been on pins and needles waiting for him to arrive and because he had kept her waiting she felt that she deserved an explanation. "Angel, I've been here on my own for over two weeks."

"I was only two hours behind you, Alex. I told you time moves differently when you travel through a portal." He stood and began to pace the room. "You scared the piss out of me when you recited that spell. Did you think for even a moment how you were going to get home?"

Property disciplined, she looked away from the anger displayed on his face. "No. I guess I didn't." She replied meekly. It was rare to see Angel outwardly angry. Apparently she was one of the unlucky ones who got to experience it firsthand.

"That's why I was calling Wesley. Lucky for you he knew how to reword the spell to gets us back home, and lucky for you Spike was willing to come with me and give us a hand."

"All right you two. Take a breather." Spike reached into his pocket and withdrew his smokes and lit one. "All I want to know love, is why you introduced me as William. Like you was me mum or something."

"Not too many men are named Spike in the year 1881. You're supposed to blend, remember." She shot back.

You forget that I've already been here and killed that in 1881, and during that time I never once had any trouble with my name." His chin climbed a notch with defiance.

She ignored him and turned back to Angel. "You went to the church and talk to Father Martin?"

"Yeah. He told us we'd find you here. Why don't you tell us what's been happening?" He sat back down at the table to hear her tale.

She quickly told them all they needed to know about her activities since she arrived, but left out some details; for instance, her relationship with Doc and the events that led to her decision to heal him.

"So, you've been cooking here during the day and serving at night and then patrolling into the early morning hours?" Angel asked.

She nodded.

"No wonder you look exhausted. It's a good cover though, and right in the middle of town."

"I can't take credit for that idea. Father Martin suggested it."

"How soon do you expect the other Guardians to arrive?"

"Within the week, I hope. I should have asked Father Martin to call for help sooner."

"Yes, you should have." Angel stood and began to pace the room again. He always thought better on his feet, and this extreme situation with Malachi required a cool head and some quick thinking. "Are you sure Malachi is turning the Cowboy gang into vampires?"

"Positive. I also suspect he's targeting the Earps and Doc Holliday now."

"What makes you think that, pet?" Spike asked.

"Three nights ago they killed Wyatt's wife, Mattie. They tore her throat out while she was in an opium den. Three others were also killed."

"Did you…?" Angel asked anxiously.

"Yes." She cut him off. "I took the necessary precautions. Mattie won't be coming back to haunt us."

"What makes you think they targeted Wyatt's wife?" Spike asked.

"I've counted five opium dens within the town limits. Why did they pick that one and on the same night Mattie was there?" She stood and walked to the window to look out. The question and answer session was making her feel like a little girl who did something her parents disaproved of. Sitting down while Angel towered over her was not helping the situation.

"And Holliday, why would Malachi bother him?" Angel's eyes narrowed with suspicion as he returned to the table.

She didn't answer right away but continued to look out the window. Slowly she turned to face Angel's suspicious gaze finding it hard to keep the guilt from showing on her face.

He rolled his eyes at her. "Oh Alex, please tell me you didn't?"

She looked away from him and back out the window again. "It just happened, Angel. He wasn't looking to get involved with me anymore than I was with him. It was just one of those things…"

"What did Malachi do to Doc Holliday?"

She cocked her head to one side and raised one finely manicured eyebrow at him.

Angel raised his hand to ward off her impending comment. "Never mind, I get the picture. Holliday is rooming at boarding house next to the OK Corral isn't he?"

She nodded and looked back out the window. "That event won't be occurring in case you're wondering. I had to kill Tom and Frank McLaury and Ike Clanton. All three have been turned into vampires. Which reminds me, we need to go out to the Clanton ranch and do some cleaning there. I believe we may find the rest of the Clanton family and all of the Cowboy gang have been turned into vampires and are nesting at the ranch."

He waved away her attempt to change the subject. "Wait minute, I want to hear the rest of the story about you and Holliday. How did you know it was Malachi and not another vampire?" Angel asked.

She walked back to the table and sat down. "Malachi left me a note, but addressed it to Doc. I intercepted it when I went to check up on his health. Of course I recognized the handwriting, and opened the note. He wrote down the lyrics to the song we danced to at our wedding, Angel."

"And Holliday's health, how is it now?" He already knew what her answer would be.

She looked down at her hands, and wished they were holding a large glass of whiskey. "His health is… well, let's just say he has made a full recovery." She raised her eyes to meet his gaze.

His face froze for just a moment as he took in this information and then his composure crumbled. "That's just perfect, Alex. Just freaking perfect." He jumped up from the table and stood over her as his voice rose loud enough to be heard downstairs in the saloon. "Well, I have to say, between you and Malachi you both have managed to total screw up history."

"He would have died within days if I hadn't and that would have changed history too." She snapped. Now she was mad enough to fight back.

"Hey, Angel. Give the girl a break. She did what she thought was right." Spike raised his voice to counteract Angel's.

There was a sudden knock at her bedroom door. "Alexis, is everything all right in there?" Doc called from the other side.

Alex stood and punched Angel in the arm. "Now look what you've done?" She hissed at him in a low voice.

Doc knocked harder this time. "Open this door." It was not a request but a demand.

"Just a moment." She called out loud. Then she turned back to Angel and Spike. "We will have to continue this discussion later." She whispered.

"Meet up with us at the Grande Hotel later tonight. Spike and I registered earlier and acquired two rooms. We'll have more privacy there." Angel whispered back. Alex nodded her head as she turned to walk towards the door but Angel stopped her before she could. "Get rid of him, Alex, and don't keep us waiting."

"Easier said then done. He thinks he's protecting me, Angel. I can't get rid of him so easily." She hissed.

"Alex!" Doc yelled.

"Coming." She called out again.

"Fine, while you work out your little problem, Spike and I will take a look at the Clanton ranch. But I still expect for you to meet up with us later. Understand?" She nodded again

She pulled back the slide bolt on the door and opened it far enough for Doc to see her face but not the room behind her. At first glance she could tell he was drunk. He was also angry and ready for a fight.

"I heard raised voices."

"I'm fine. We are just clearing the air, that is all." She said in a calm voice.

He studied her face for any signs of distress. Then he tilted his chin as he tried to get a glimpse of the room behind her. "Go pack a bag. I'm ready to leave for the night."

"You are done playing so soon?" She was trying to stall him while she desperately tried to think of a way to ditch him for the night.

"There is no sport tonight. No one is in the mood, including myself. Come, its time we retired."

Alex realized he was not asking her to come with him, he was telling her and was also ready to relay that information to her cousins in any manner he felt necessary.

"Give me five minutes and I'll be down directly."

"I'll wait." He replied sternly. He began to push her to one side as he tried to enter the room.

"Doc, please." She begged as she tried to block his entrance.

Angel approached behind her and pulled the door open. "Alex, don't be so rude. Let Mr. Holliday wait with us while you pack a bag." He grabbed her arm and pulled her back away from the door.

Doc walked in and dipped his head in greeting to the two men. "I assume Alexis had informed you of the nature of our relationship?"

"She has." Angel replied dryly. He let Alex go and she quickly retrieve the carpetbag she had borrowed from Father Martin and began to pack in a rush, hopping to ward off a fight between Angel and Doc.

"You have no opposition then?"

Angel gave Doc a thin smile. "Opposition is not exactly the term I would use."

Doc retaliated with a smirk. "Directness is a trait I admire, Mr. Montgomery. Do not misunderstand me. I have Alexis's best interest at heart. She has become very dear to me and will be well looked after."

Angel silently glared at the gambler for several moments. "Alex is a grown woman who can make up her own mind, which she has demonstrated over the last few weeks. I can't say I approve of your relationship but I have no right to disapprove either." He turned to Alex who had finished packing. "William and I will take care of our business here in town over the next few days. Come to the hotel and we'll finish our discussion." He gave her a pointed look.

With her bag in hand she walked over to the door where Angel stood. "Thank you for understanding." He leaned down and she placed a kiss on his cheek. Then she turned and kissed Spike who was still sitting on the bed. "Be careful." She whispered to him.

"No worries, love. I'm sure Angel and I can find plenty of entertainment tonight." He told her.


	28. Stay

**A/N: Ok, here's that annoying sexual content warning again! For those of you who are clapping your hands loudly, I say _'oh, behave.'_**

* * *

**Chapter 27 - Stay**

They walked arm-in-arm back to the rooming house. She was not very pleased that he was inebriated tonight. Apparently, bad habits were very hard to break.

The evening had indeed turned out to be a quiet one. There were only a dozen of patrons in the saloon and only a handful of them were interested in gambling. Most seemed to linger around the faro table as Wyatt worked the table.

Virgil had left the saloon early to spend a quiet evening with his wife. Alex had already noticed that out of the three brothers, Virgil seemed to be the most settled.

Wyatt and Morgan opted to stay at the saloon just in case Behan made a return appearance. Alex got the feeling they were protecting the saloon in shifts. She supposed Doc and Virgil would stay on watch tomorrow night, leaving Wyatt and Morgan free spend the evening with their significant other.

She couldn't help but wonder what they would do if Behan did return to the saloon. They could shoot him, but Alex doubted it would kill him. Actually, she wasn't sure how to handle Behan. Technically, he wasn't dead, but he wasn't living either. He was in between worlds, and most importantly, he still had a soul. Her authority allowed her to assess a situation and do whatever she deemed necessary to protect the innocents in jeopardy. She was hunter, judge and executioner. Behan's case was different; he was also an innocent in jeopardy. Sadly, there was nothing she could do to restore him so the only things she could do to help him was to set his soul free. Decapitation seemed the surest way to end his misery. The entire situation left her heart in turmoil. The facts were plain and straightforward, but it would still feel like she was taking a life.

As she walked she kept a look out for any signs of a disturbance. But the streets were fairly quiet. Another sign that something was seriously wrong with the town. She hoped Angel and Spike had some success at the Clanton ranch tonight. Now that they were here to help her, she could concentrate on a few other tasks she needed to do. The first would be a protection spell for Doc's room. Then she would go to hotel and do the same to the rooms Wyatt rented. She would place some herbs on the inside of the rooms and lay down a trail on the outside of the windows and the hotel door. That should temporary stop any vampires from entering. Since vampires could not enter a residence without an invitation, she knew Virgil and Morgan would be safe until she could get to their houses tomorrow. It was the hotel rooms that were her first concern. They had an open invitation with the 'Welcome' and 'Enter' signs on the doors, which allowed all vampires free access.

As soon as they were safely settled in his room Doc seemed to finally relax. He striped down to his shirt and pants, and sat in his chair with a drink. "What a strange day." He sighed as he rested his head back against the chair. He watched as Alex let down her hair and began to brush it. She was too quiet and it was beginning to worry him.

"Are they very upset with you Darlin'?" He finally asked.

She shrugged. "They'll get over it."

"Will you get over it?" She didn't answer him, which only worried him more. "Aren't you happy about going home?"

"I don't want to talk about this now." She put her brush down and began to unbutton her dress.

"But I do." He was deliberately pushing the issue.

She looked over at him. He had slouched down in the chair until he was almost laying in it. His bare feet were crossed and hung precariously over the edge of the ottoman. He was gazing back at her through an alcohol-induced haze. "Is this one of those times when you will have your way?" She inquired.

"Just one of those times? I believe you mean every time." He smirked at her before taking another deep drink from his glass.

She picked up her discarded dress and petticoats and draped them over a chair in the corner. She purposely left her long sleeve chemise on to hide her tattoos. Then she crossed the room to sit on the arm of his chair.

He frowned as he looked at her underwear suspiciously. "Alex, is that the manner of feminine under garments women are wearing in Europe?"

"Well, that depends." She answered coyly as she looked down at her bikini underwear that was now in view because she had been foolish enough to pull her chemise over her hips to sit more comfortably.

"Depends on what exactly?" He asked. She was looking at him very strangely. Clearly from the flush in her cheeks she was embarrassed but she also seemed amused. Finally she smiled.

"I can't believe I'm having this discussion with you."

"Why? I find the topic to be not only thought provoking, but spiritually uplifting as well." He grinned openly at her.

At that moment Alex felt her heart break in two. A moment of sadness and despair flashed through her soul before she banished it. She reached over and pushed the hair from his eyes. "What am I going to do without you?" She whispered to him.

He reached out, grabbed her hand, and planted a wet kiss on the tips of her fingers. "Then let's talk about this."

"John, please, not tonight."

His head tilted a little to one side and his brows came together to form a frown. "Do you know you only call me by my Christian name when we are alone."

"Do I? I didn't realize." She reached for the glass in his hand, took a sip and placed it on the small table that stood along side the chair.

"When do you leave Alex?" His tone was firm and more direct.

"I really don't know. With in a week I suppose. Angel has some business to transact first." She avoided making eye contact with him, concentrating instead on an unseen defect on her thigh.

"I don't want you to leave. Why don't you stay here with me? If you want to go home later, I will take you myself."

She continued to look away from him. "I can't do that."

"All right then, I shall come with you."

Her eyes briefly made contact with his as she considered his request before she lowered her gaze and slowly shook her head.

"But why?" He sat up and pulled her across his lap so he could have her full attention. "Give me a good reason."

The painful expression in his eyes would be her ruin if she didn't end this conversation now while she still had some margin of control. She decided to switch topics rather than argue about something she could do nothing about. "I need to know something before I go home, John." She waited until he realized she wouldn't discuss her departure any more that night. "Will you give up this personal hell you have created for yourself and return home?"

She had no sooner spoken the words when she felt him pull away from her emotionally. She saw the warmth drain from his eyes before he looked away from her to reach for his drink on the table. She moved off of his lap and back onto the arm of the chair. If their conversation was going to turn into a quarrel she wanted to be able to move away from him quickly if she needed to.

Several minutes passed and he gave her no answer. "Will you not answer?" She pressed.

"Why is it so important?" He stood up so quickly he nearly pushed her off the chair. He kept his back turned towards her as he looked out the window and onto the street below.

She stayed next to the chair to give him some room. "When I look at you I see a very unhappy man. I will go so far as to state that you hate living away from your family. You also hate associating with the reprobates that frequent the saloon."

"What is your point Alex?" He snapped as he continued to show her his back.

"You are a dentist, but I haven't seen one customer or one item of dental equipment since I met you."

He turned sharply around to face her. "Again, I ask you to explain your reasoning!"

"Don't you see? I can't go home and leave you here like this!" She finally screamed.

He stared back at her, analyzing the painful expression on her face for a moment before he looked away and down at the glass in his hand.

"It would be a comfort to me if you promised to return to Georgia. Make a life for yourself there. You could be around people who love you and can care for you." She continued in a calmer voice.

He turned away from her again to focus his attention on the world outside his window. "I can't. I burned that bridge a long time ago. There is no going back." He replied faintly.

He downed the contents of his glass and turned towards the bottle to fill his glass again, but Alex moved to stop him. "Please don't drink anymore. Come to bed." She took the glass from his hand and placed it on the table. When she looked back he had tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry if I made you sad."

"No, it's not your fault." He replied sincerely. He sighed heavily as he decided to explain his reasoning. "Alex, my family is very established, socially and economically. My fall from grace has hurt them, but if I should return home it would be their ruin. I don't want to disgrace them anymore than I have."

The pain in his voice shattered any reserved strength she had. This conversation would not be resolved tonight. She took his hand and led him towards the bed. Slowly, she began to unbutton his shirt. He stood completely still, neither touching her nor pushing her away, the look in his eyes as he watched her held no clues to his state of mind. When she had finished the last button she slid his spenders from his shoulders until they draped over the waistband of his pants.

She looked up at him and brushed the hair off his face. The pupils of his eyes were so large the irises appeared to be a deep midnight blue. If she stared into them long enough she was sure she would see one possible path her life could follow; she would find the long course of her years laid out before her. At the center was a tall-blond man with one arm extended, his palm turned up as he offered her his hand. There would be marriage, hearth, home, love, security and children. Lots of children to fill that vacate hole in her womb. Blonde hair children with light colored eyes, sharp minds, and long graceful limbs.

A lump began to form in her throat making it hard to swallow the emotion building in her chest. She didn't want to continue on this path of death and destruction. Couldn't she walk a different one, one that resembling the hope she saw mirrored in Doc's eyes? They could run, escape. With her knowledge of history there were endless possibilities and lots of places they could hide. No one would ever find them. She wondered what he would say if she asked him to leave all this behind.

But then she remembered Malachi. If he wasn't so hell-bent on destruction she might be able to forget he existed, but she could never forget the countless lives he would take if she walked away from her responsibilities and left him to rape this town unchecked. But most importantly, there was the matter of her deception; once Doc and the Earps found out the truth any bonds of friendship would be destroyed and with it all hope for a future with Doc.

"You look like you're contemplating some very hard decisions, Alex." He had watched the turbulent thoughts swirling around in eyes, waiting, and hoping she would share her concerns with him.

She shook her head and mouthed the word 'no'. Doc watched her hair sweep gently across her shoulders and chest when she shook her head, brushing away his hope that she would finally confide in him. With an air of sadness lingering around her, he watched her continued her gentle seduction.

She reached up and slipped her fingers under the collar of his shirt and gently caressed him. The skin around his neck and shoulders felt like warm silk. Slowly she pushed the material across his shoulders and down his arms. When she reached his elbows her index finger brushed against the sensitive skin on the inside of his arms before continuing down his forearms to his wrists. His eyes remained watchful, a small hitch in his breathing was her only indication he was enjoying her touch.

She let the shirt drop at his feet before she reached for the waistband of his pants. She pulled gently on his undershirt until the material was raised over the band of his trousers Then she let her fingers lightly trace the soft skin around his waist. The first button on his pants fell pray to her nibble fingers, then the second, third, forth and finally the fifth. He was wonderfully hard, and from the sound of his rapid breathing, eager for her to touch him. But she didn't. She kissed his mouth as she slipped her hand under the shirt until she could rest her palm against his flat stomach. Her fingers playfully skimmed over his flesh until he flinched and then she began to slide his undershirt up his chest.

Doc complied by raising his arms over his head until she pulled the shirt free and let it fall to the floor. She continued to explore by running her hands over his stomach and up to his chest. She lightly pinched his nipples and watched as his eyes slowly closed. Next she sought the hair under his arms to pull and twist that as well before letting the backs of her hands slid down the inside of his arms to stop at his finger tips.

She placed a kiss on both of his shoulders and one on his chest before she moved down to his stomach. When she knelt at his feet she heard him suppress a groan. Her tongue flicked in and out of his navel while her hands slipped under the waistband of his pants and began to slide them down over his hips. The only barrier between them now was his underwear. Alex placed her mouth over his arousal and breathed on him. Above her, Doc sucked in his breath sharply. From the corner of her eye she saw his hands twitch before he held them still again.

Her hands traveled over him, first up his shaft to gently rub against the tip before sliding down between his legs to cup him gently. He groaned softly. She unfastened his underwear and slid the white material over his hips. When she had him free, she wrapped her hands around the hard shaft, gently running her fingers over the silky flesh. She loved the feel of the soft skin, it was warm, smooth, wet and had a life all of its own. She leaned in to taste him, slowly at first, before taking him into her mouth.

His hands finally gave up the fight; she felt one fist into her hair and the other rest on her shoulder, as he called out her name in a pleading whisper. His hips rocked in time to her rhythm before he suddenly stopped her and pulled her to her feet. He kissed her roughly and plunged his tongue into her mouth, his arms brutally holding her tight to his body. One hand slid down her back to cup her bottom pressing her hard against his groin. Alex wrapped her leg around his hip in an attempt to get closer to him. She felt him lift her as he stepped over his pile of clothes. He fell with her onto the bed and climbed over her, as he pressed urgently against her and kissed her roughly again.

"Don't leave. Stay with me." She heard him plead. He tried to slide her panties down her legs, got frustrated when they didn't come off fast enough, and ripped them off instead.

He was not gentle when he pushed into her. The first rock of his hips forced the air from her lungs and she grunted loudly. He shoved into her again and she cried out from the strength of his thrust and the pleasure that tore through her body.

"Stay." He pleaded again. "Please stay."

Through the agonizing pleasure he induced she heard him beg her over and over again to stay with him. She wasn't sure when her orgasm over took the tears she shed as he loved her.

Finally, John collapsed on top of her. She could feel his lips and tongue catch the tears that slid down her cheeks and neck. She lifted his face and kissed him deeply, passionately. He asked her again if she would stay and again she refused.

Moments later he rolled away from her, emotionally spent. "At least give me a reason why." He demanded.

"I can't." She was crying so hard now the words were barely audible.

He rested on his back, stared at the ceiling and listened to Alex cry softly. He had no words of comfort to offer, and felt too used and spent to take her in his arms and let her take some small measure of solace from his body. After a few more minutes she stifled her tears and rose from the bed. In silence he watched her slip on her petticoats and dress. When she had fastened her shoes, she reached for the band that held her hair and looped the material around the mass of blonde waves.

"That's it? You're just going to leave?" He finally voiced the obvious.

"Yes. I think we both need some time alone." She draped her shawl around her shoulders, dabbed the ends of the material across her wet eyes, and walk towards the door with her carpetbag in hand.

"That's not what I meant." He replied harshly.

She didn't look at him as she reached for the doorknob. Doc watched as she shut her eyes against the anger in his voice. Finally she turned and glared at him. "I have only a few more days to spend with you, John. If you choose to spend them fighting and trying to hurt me anymore then I already do, then you are wasting both our time." Without another word she walked out the door.


	29. Home is Where the Heart is Missing

**Chapter 28 – Home is Where the Heart is Missing **

Alex went directly to the hotel to find Angel and Spike. They had been waiting for her when she knocked and then entered. Angel had procured two adjoining rooms, which were not overly majestic, but sufficient enough for both men to room together without stepping on each other's toes. Each room contained a large bed, separate bath, a small table for dinning along with a small sofa with two matching chairs. The rooms were modest compared to some of the suites the hotel boasted. Still, the accommodations were a lot nicer than what Angel and Spike were normally used to. Alex looked around at the tastefully decorated rooms and wondered where they would get the money to pay for all this. _Silly,_ she thought. _They'll probably skip out on the bill when we return to our time._

On the heels of that thought she wondered how upset the Earps and Doc would be when they just mysteriously disappeared without a trace. Angel had only been in town a matter of hours and already Doc was showing signs of anxiety over her departure. She didn't want him to waste time looking for her after she left and she certainly didn't want him to feel like she had abandoned him. There just had to be a way of making him understand why they couldn't have a future together. Her goal was to leave him satisfied over their unique friendship with hope of encouraging him to return home to Georgia and rebuild his life there.

As she crossed the room to greet her friends she inwardly winced at the soreness between her legs. If Doc's behavior tonight was any indication of what was to come then she had better prepare herself for some physical and emotional days ahead.

"Took you long enough." Angel snapped. He didn't notice the strained lines around her mouth and her wet lashes, but Spike did.

"Not so harsh, Mate." He scolded Angel as he walked over to take Alex in his arms. "Want to talk about it pet?" She momentarily rested her face against his shoulder, as she took comfort from his embrace. Since she had met both men she had instantly felt close to Angel, even though he was often hardheaded about recognizing her wavering emotional state. Spike was definitely more sensitive to others and in general the world around him. His keen view and sharp summaries often left her shaking her head at his intellect.

"Trouble with the dentist?" He asked again.

She sniffed and raised her head. "I'm fine. Give me a moment to change and we can get started." She walked into the bathroom. When she returned she was dressed in patrolling clothes and noticeably more composed.

"Did you find anything at the Clanton ranch?" She asked Angel and Spike.

"Just several dead cows, all bled dry." Angel replied. He was checking the sharp edge on short battle-axe he had brought with him.

"The Earps rode out to the ranch earlier today and found some horses and cows grazing in the paddock. That means the Cowboys returned to the ranch after sunset." As she talked she checked her supply of throwing darts.

"They were probably sleeping in the ground during the day. It's what I would do if my home had been compromised." Spike watched them prep and fuss from his reclined position on the bed. "Or they might have stayed in a cave or mine you haven't found yet, Alex."

She stopped her preparation to consider his suggestion. "It would have to be close to the ranch and very well hidden. Most of the other mines around that area I've checked already."

"We need a survey map of the area's mines. Spike why don't you see if the Mining Exchange might have some maps. We need to figure out where the Cowboys might be hiding." Angel suggested.

"Right." Spike agreed, even though he made no effort to get up from the bed.

"I need to lay some barriers to stop the Cowboys from entering the Earp's houses and Wyatt and Doc's hotel rooms." Alex added.

"Fine idea. I'll patrol the streets and when you're done, Alex, meet up with me." She agreed without looking over at him, but out of the corner of her eye she saw him approach and felt his gentle hand on her shoulder. "Leave Holliday alone, and stay focused on the mission. Maybe we can tighten this up before the other Guardians arrive. After they do, Spike and I won't be safe on the streets. They'll hunt us as well as Malachi and the Cowboy gang."

"I know." She replied softly.

"Don't you want to go home, Alex?" Angel asked with concern.

She issued a short bitter laugh. "Home to what, Angel? I have nothing to go home to. My future is in my past, literally." She waved off any reply he might have had. "We can talk about this later. We're losing time, let's go."

* * *

After Alex's hasty departure, Doc stayed in bed and continued to stare at the ceiling. His heart was split in two directions. He wanted to go after her, force her to return, and scream his frustration and rage at her until she finally confessed. The other half of his heart was afraid to discover the truth behind her lies and deception. 

Why would she not consider staying here with him, if only for a little while longer? And why would she not explain her reason for refusing to stay? There had to be reason. Their coupling tonight had been filled with sadness and longing. Alex had cried the entire time, not from his rough lovemaking but from her internal dilemma. It only enforced his feeling that she had a reason for not staying with him, and a darn good one too, but whatever it was she was determined to keep it hidden. It was that determination that struck fear in his heart.

He had wanted tonight to be special, with anticipation of it ending with a bright new future. He desperately wanted to declare his feelings for her and had finally decided to reveal them tonight, but when she grew quiet and solemn he quickly changed his mind. She was not thinking of a future with him, she had been thinking of their parting and what would happen to him after she left him behind.

He sat up on the edge of the bed and began to roll a smoke. Maybe she was right. Maybe he should return home and try to pick up the pieces of his shattered life. He could move to Florida and stay with his uncle, and start his dental practice there. It would be close enough to his Georgia relations and yet far enough away from a sudden scandal. _Like the scandal you created with Mattie?_

What would Mattie do if he suddenly returned home? Would she relent and become his wife or would she continue to abide by the rules of society and the church? Perhaps he should return in the dead of night, break into her bedroom and suggest they run away together to Philadelphia, or even New York. They didn't really need a marriage certificate, they could just tell everyone they were married. No one would be the wiser.

He smiled devilishly to himself. Now that would be the scandal of the decade. He could imagine how the headlines in the papers would read, _"Future Nun runs off with Outlaw and Gambler."_ The gossip would feed the vultures in his hometown for months on end.

He struck a match and leaned back against the plump bed pillows to smoke and think some more. It had been eight long years since he last saw Mattie. At times he could barely remember what she looked like. He had only vague memories of her dark hair and soft-white skin, the turn of her cheek, and the smell of her skin, but no distinct features struck him clearly.

What he did see clearly were light-green eyes, long blonde locks and a modest mouth that could break into dimples and a bright smile in the turn of a heartbeat. Hell, he could still smell the apple peels and hear the teasing clip in her voice as she chased away his anger and heartbreak with her smile and a few well-chosen words. Even now he felt the laughter in his chest eager to escape as the image of his father sporting a horse's tail surfaced in his mind. _Alarming appendages, indeed._

He rose from the bed and put out the remains of his smoke.

No, he could never go back to Mattie. They were different people now and had grown apart. And there was no way he could marry her while he remained in love with Alex.

He grabbed his pants and shirt.

What he should do is ask Alex to be his wife. He didn't have much to give her but he could offer her the remaining years of his life.

Finding his socks and shoes was frustrating but he finally managed to locate them under the bed.

If he continued to feel as good as he had today, he was sure they would have a few good years together. She could give him children and leave a stamp of his existence behind.

After he buttoned his vest, he fastened the buckle on his shoulder holster and slid his gun comfortably to his side.

They could travel East, first by stage and then by train and arrive in Florida by October. His Uncle's family would be happy to attend their marriage ceremony by the sea, and afterwards, when the sun went down, and everyone had returned home, he would make love to her in the sand.

Smiling to himself, he reached for his jacket, long coat and hat.

She would fight him, he had no doubt about that, but there were ways to work around an edgy female, several of them were not at all gentlemanly, but they were definitely effective.

Briskly, he walked down the steps and out the main door of the hotel in the direction of the Oriental.

One or two good doses of laudanum and she would be unconscious for hours. If anyone should inquire about her health he would say she had been ill. Once they were on the way he would keep her quiet with small doses of the drug. If that didn't work he could always make love to her in a dark corner of the train car.

He still had the bottle of laudanum Dr. Goodfellow gave him, but he would need one more bottle just in case. And if Alex was telling the truth about never having taken the drug she may not even know what was happening to her until it was to late. Yes, there were definite possibilities ahead. He would tell Wyatt he was leaving and then he would find another bottle of laudanum. If his timing was right he would have her on a train heading East in a day or two.

* * *

Alex headed to Virgil's house first. Under the dark of night her clothing blended seamlessly. Once she was near the house she squatted behind a large boulder to mix her herbs together in a small cloth bag. Father Martin had given her a large quantity of communion wafers and to a good size batch of lavender and sage she add two of the precious wafers. She crushed the ingredients into a fine sashay that would not be noticeable in the daylight. Then she broke cover and made her way in the direction of the house. From inside the quaint wooden structure she could hear Allie pumping her sewing machine and Alex knew she was busy sewing a new dress using the beautiful mauve fabric she had purchased. Virgil's low voice could be heard over the whirling of the machine. Alex only caught snatches of his conversation but she could tell he was teasing her about the color and model of her new dress, and then she heard Allie's high-pitched feminine laughter float over his soft chuckles. 

They were such a loving couple and so good together that it made her long for some happiness and love for herself. She knew she must go back to Doc tonight and make up for their earlier disagreement. She didn't want to fight with him any longer, but there was work to do first.

She squatted low so she would not be seen and when she was several yards from the house she dropped to her knees and began to crawl. As she made her way in a circle around the house she sprinkled a fine line of the sashay in the soft dirt. In a soft voice she said a prayer of protection in Latin, over and over as she crawled. Once the circle was closed she could almost feel the barrier rise and enclose the house and surrounding property in a protective cocoon. The undead would not be able to cross over the circle. It wasn't much protection but at least Virgil and Allie would be safe and undisturbed while inside the barrier.

One down, three more to go. Her next stop was Morgan's house.

* * *

**A/N: Hi All! Hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. I would love to hear from you, so please leave me a review! Thanks!**


	30. The Big Picture

**Chapter 29 – The Big Picture**

When Doc arrived at the back door of the Oriental he fully expected to find Alex sitting in the kitchen sulking and drinking her tea.

He was mistaken.

On his way over to the saloon, he had envisioned continuing their fight by purposely provoking her further before taking her upstairs and irritating her in another way. But when he pulled open the back door all he found was an empty kitchen and a cold teapot. He rushed up the steps to her room hoping she would be sleeping soundly in her bed, but all he found was an empty, dark room.

As he made his way out to the saloon he was prepared to do battle if he found her enjoying the company of another man. He stopped his approach just beyond the kitchen door and scanned the room. The saloon was fairly busy, although more people seemed to be drinking rather than playing cards. His eyes searched the room for Alex as he simultaneously counting the number of men playing poker and faro. He surmised business was still poor and hardly worth his effort to take up a game. Wyatt was working the faro table with only a few players engaged. Morgan, as usual, was playing a game of pool. The greeting he received from his friends did very little to warm the cool feeling of discontent he felt in his heart.

Alex was nowhere in sight.

"Doc, you've got great timing. I'm just about ready to rack up another game." Morgan called. "Come on and grab a stick."

Doc paused while making his way back across the main floor as he looked once more for any sign of Alex. "Morgan, have you seen, Alex?" He asked as he tossed his long coat and hat on a nearby chair.

"Don't tell me you've lost her already." Morgan teased, not realizing his joke was echoing Doc's inner fears. "Forget about her for one night. I suspect you two will be married soon enough. Let's play, 50 cents a game."

Determined to get a straight answer, Doc asked his friend again. "Seriously Morgan, have you seen her within the last hour?"

Something in Doc's tone of voice alerted Morgan of the inner turmoil the dentist was attempting to hide. He rested his pool stick against the table and turned to give Doc his full attention. "Well, no Doc. We thought she was with you?" He studied his friend's face and could see the tight line of his mouth, and the cold-feral anger stirring in his eyes.

"Damn it." Doc muttered under his breath as ran frustrated hands through his hair. Then he turned to look at Morgan who had been watching intently. "She must be with her family, which will greatly hinder my visitations."

"You two have words tonight, Doc?" Morgan asked softly.

"Actually, we had several words and none of them met with my approval."

Morgan put a comforting hand on the other man's shoulder. "Let it go for now. She'll be back here either later tonight or tomorrow and you can make up then. Come on I'll buy you a drink." He gently directed Doc to a table and motioned for Milt to bring some refreshments.

Wyatt had also noticed Doc's agitated state and ever mindful of his friend's quick temper, quickly closed the faro table and stopped first at the bar to refill his coffee cup before sitting at their table to monitor the situation. A warm comforting smile lit his face. "Doc, I'm glad you're here." He patted him on the back. "It's been kind of hard getting a moment alone with you lately. We need to talk."

"Wyatt, I apologize. My mind had been on … other things lately." Doc didn't notice Wyatt's friendly support. His eyes were still scanning the room with hope of seeing Alex materialize at any moment. Finally resolved to the situation, Doc tossed back a shot to calm the nervous tension in his stomach.

Wyatt looked across the table to toss a silent question at Morgan. Morgan answered with a subtle shake of his head and a wary glance, telling Wyatt all he needed to know. "We never got to talk about the night at the Clanton ranch." Wyatt continued.

The subject of Wyatt's discussion grabbed Doc's full attention. "Wyatt, I've been thinking hard about that night, and I've still no sane resolution to offer. Perhaps we misinterpreted the events." But before Wyatt could answer, Doc stopped him with a slight motion of his hand as he reconsidered. "No. I'm positive. I know what I saw. I just don't know what to call it. But whatever it was, it was not natural of that I am sure."

Wyatt nodded his head in agreement. "My thoughts exactly. My next question would be what do we do about it? Or perhaps, should we do anything at all?"

"How can we know what to do, if we don't know what it is we're fighting?" Morgan asked.

"Our friend in black seems to know. Perhaps we should conduct our investigation in that direction. We need to find out who he is and then we will have the answers to our other questions." Doc suggested.

"Good idea, Doc." Wyatt paused to contemplate the preceding events. "What bothers me most of all is not the singular incidents that have been occurring in town lately: namely, Mattie's murder and the others that have taken place, the missing oriental women, and mostly this mystery man in black. What bothers me is the picture as a whole."

"Wyatt I don't follow your meaning." Morgan said.

"We've been looking at this too closely, Morg. We need to back up and consider things from a broader range so we can see the entire picture to understand what we're up against and how to fight it."

"Wise words, my friend." Doc nodded while rolling a smoke.

"What do you think, Wyatt?" Morgan asked.

"Well, if I was to make an calculated guess, I would say something is hunting the citizens in Tombstone. And our friend in black is on our side and fighting back, but in secret."

The other two men looked at Wyatt with something akin to wonder. Finally Doc chuckled softly, "Wyatt, as painful as it is for me to admit this, I firmly believe that law enforcement is your true calling. It would be a waste of God's gift for you to do anything else." He struck a match and lit his smoke.

"I can't tell you how glad I am you feel that why Doc, cause my next theory is going to come as quite a surprise for you." He paused to swallow the lump of nerves in his throat. "I've thought about this for sometime, and what I'm going to say doesn't come easy… but it seems to me that all this trouble in town started about the same time Alex showed up."

Doc's first reaction was to vehemently deny the accusation, but then he changed his mind. He had known Wyatt for five or six years, and not once in all those years had he seen the lawman jump to a conclusion. Wyatt had always been slow and careful making a decision. And even then, he was still very calm and steady as he proceeded. There were plenty of men who would have lost their lives if any other peace officer had broken up their fight or rowdy behavior. It was certainly safer for a sheriff to shoot first and ask no questions later. But not Wyatt, he would calmly approach the delinquent, and talk in a steady, calm voice until he was close enough to hit him along side the head with the butt end of his gun. Better to have a headache then a funeral, was Wyatt's motto.

Doc looked steadily at his friend and asked the hardest question he had uttered in years. "What are your thoughts, Wyatt?"

Inwardly, Wyatt sighed with relief. "Thanks for not getting mad, Doc. You have no idea how hard it was to talk with you about this. It's kept me up for the last couple of nights."

"Indeed?" Doc inquired with one eyebrow raised and a smirk resting lightly on his lips. "I would have thought that spirited actress could have achieve that without any help."

Wyatt laughed back. "Well, I didn't say I wasn't busy while pondering events. You might know something about that yourself, Doc."

"I do indeed, Wyatt. My time has been well spent lately. But I have a feeling your theories will abruptly halt my extra curricular activities."

"Maybe. I'm not so sure. Here's what I think. Preceding Alex's arrival, several murders and mysterious deaths occurred. After her arrival, our friend in black makes his first appearance, and now people are being saved from beings described as animal-like in appearance. Very much like what we saw at the Clanton ranch that night. Now we know Alex's story about her friend's elopement is utter nonsense. Has she said anything more on that subject to you, Doc?"

"No, quite the opposite. She refuses to tell me anything…. well, that's not true. If your brother, Virgil had better timing, I have a feeling I would have heard the real reason for her visit to Tombstone this afternoon, but Virgil interrupted our talk."

"I'm sorry Doc. I know he can be abrupt at times."

"Lucky for him, he will get the chance to improve his manners. My first reaction was to shoot him." He heard Morgan laugh before he could continue. "How did you come to this conclusion Wyatt?"

"The night you took sick, Alex went to check in on you. I tried to stop her thinking you might want some privacy and rest." He chuckled softly. "She practically bit my head off for interfering."

"Yes, I have a somewhat cloudy recollection of that night." Doc rubbed his mustache as he remembered. "Dr. Goodfellow's diagnosis was not very encouraging. He insisted I take a good dose of laudanum for the pain and remain in bed to rest. The next thing I remember is waking up and finding Alex in my bed."

"Are you feeling better now Doc?" Wyatt asked with concern.

"Yes, remarkably better, actually."

"You know, now that you mention it, I've not heard you cough once." Morgan added.

"How right you are, Morgan. I'm not sure what the doctor put in that bottle of laudanum but whatever it was it helped a great deal. I've been meaning to pay him a visit to discover the hidden ingredient and to thank him for his good care."

"It's funny, but Alex gave me the impression she wasn't going to disturb your rest. What was it she said to me… oh, now I remember, '_Just what do you think I would do with a sick and dying man alone in his hotel room, Wyatt? Did you think I would expect him to perform sexual gymnastics?'_ I wonder what changed her mind."

Doc only laughed. "I glad she changed her mind, Wyatt. Who cares about the reason?"

"Good for you Doc. It wasn't so much what she said that got me thinking, it was what I saw as she walked towards the boarding house. Doc, have you noticed Alex's shoes?"

Doc tossed Wyatt a strange look before answering. "Of course. She is in need of some improvements." He paused as he took another drink. "Actually, all her attire is needy: her shoes, outer garments, and her undergarments need my attention as well. What's your point Wyatt?"

"That night she was wearing a pair of masculine black boots under her dress. I've never noticed them before. Have you?"

"Are you implying she…" He frowned deeply at his friend. "That's madness Wyatt." He said firmly.

Wyatt held up his hand to calm Doc's rising temper. "I'm not so sure. Milt tells me she left the Oriental shortly after us, and then she returned right before we did. Wait. There's more. The figure we saw was small in stature and completely shielded by Ike Clanton's body. So whoever it was is smaller then the average size man."

"Wyatt, think about what you're saying." Morgan chimed in. "Alex is a girl, there's no way she could do the things we've read about in the papers.

"I know it sounds crazy Morg, but look at the facts. No one but Milt knew we were riding out to the Clanton ranch. When Alex became upset over our disappearing act, Milt told her where we went. Afterwards, she leaves the saloon. Then out of nowhere, this person dressed from head to toe in black appears, efficiently kills a transformed Ike Clanton and then disappears again." Wyatt held up his hand to hold off his brother's comments. "I want you to also consider that out of our two groups that night, this person in black appears not to you and Virgil, but to Doc and me. Whoever that person is knew what the danger was and which of our groups was most exposed. Now I might be pulling at straws, but the facts are too tangible to ignore."

Even after stating his case Morgan continued to shake his head. Doc, however, was sitting in stunned silence. His eyes, which stared intently at Wyatt, burned with new insight.

"This is utter nonsense." Morgan said to his older brother.

Wyatt nodded thoughtfully as he sipped his coffee. He wouldn't push the issue just yet, but he wouldn't let it go either. Utter nonsense? Wyatt wasn't so sure.

* * *

Once Alex had secured Morgan's house in the same fashion as Virgil's, she made her way to the Grande Hotel to secure Wyatt and Josie's room as well. She stopped at Angel's room first to change back into her regular clothes. She checked her appearance once in the bathroom mirror before proceeding downstairs.

It was easy enough to get their room numbers from the hotel register. As she made her way down the hallway, she said a silent prayer she wouldn't bump into Josie in the hallway, but if she did she could always say she was just stopping by to say hello.

She saw their rooms were next to one another, most likely with connecting doors. Wyatt was certainly pushing the moral standards of civilized society living next door to his mistress days after his wife's murder. Not that she disapproved. Actually, Alex wished she had the same arrangement with Doc.

But she shouldn't waste time pondering ethics, she needed to get her job finished and get out before Josie or Wyatt saw her. She performed the same ceremony, but instead of creating a border of sashay she rubbed it around the doorways and over the entranceways. Then she sprinkled a fine powder on top of the door's molding where housekeeping would be unlikely to clean. Once she was finished, she made her way to the outside of the building. One more ceremony and more sashay by Josie and Wyatt's windows and she was finished.

She would have liked to sprinkle a barrier around the outside of the building but the hotel had too much foot traffic coming and going. There was no way the barrier would hold up against several dozen feet kicking it all over town. But for good measure she stole the welcome sign off the front door as she walked back through the front doors. If vampires weren't invited then they couldn't enter. Angel and Spike would not be affected because they were already granted access to the hotel. She grabbed her bag from Angel's room and made her way out to the street.

One more stop and her job would be finished. She walked quickly in the direction of Doc's temporary home. On her way there she decided to check the Oriental first just to make sure Wyatt and Morgan were undisturbed. More than likely she would find Doc there as well and probably twice as drunk as he was earlier. Hopefully, his mood would be improved. She didn't think she could handle another round of rough sex.

She almost laughed when she saw the surprised look on his face as she glided into the saloon by means of the front door. Apparently, he had been anxiously looking for her. She was glad to find him in the company of his friends, quietly talking, instead of playing poker with a group of rough minors that he loved to antagonize while professionally separating them from their weekly earnings.

She walked up to their table to say hello and got the impression she had just interrupted an important conversation. All three men were looking at her very strangely.

"What is it?" She nervously asked. "Have I got dirt on my face or something?"

Doc pulled her down into the chair beside him and quickly brushed off the encounter. "We're just surprised to see you that's all." He reached for her hand and felt immediate relief when she willing threaded her fingers through his. He continued to gaze at her as he searched for some clue to her state of mind.

Morgan found the lover's quarrel amusing. Evidently Doc was very relived to see Alex. "Want a drink Alex?" Morgan asked. She looked away from Doc and nodded.

"Don't you ever walk out on me again." Doc hissed under his breath at her. "Where did you go?"

"Where do you think? I went to see my cousins, had a nice visit and came back here to sleep." She looked away from him again when Morgan returned to the table with a small glass of sherry. To further annoy Doc she changed subjects. "So what's the topic of the evening?"

"Topic?" Wyatt inquired.

"What were you discussing before I interrupted you." Alex clarified.

"Oh, not much. Just politics." Wyatt quickly lied.

She flashed him a bright smile. "Well then, your evening must have been very dull." Both Wyatt and Morgan chuckled and nodded in agreement.

Doc scoffed. "My evening has been anything but dull."

"I can fix that, if your not very careful." She tossed back. She heard Morgan snicker softly. She looked up in time to see Wyatt hide his smile. When she saw Doc had received her message loud and clear she backed down. "Besides, the hour is too late for any excitement now."

"It is indeed. Are your cousin's settled in their room?" Doc asked calmly. And to further show that his feathers were unruffled, he looked away from her as he slowly reached into his pocket for his tobacco and began to roll a smoke.

"They are very settled. Thank you for asking." She replied with a smirk as she watched his nibble fingers work the tobacco and paper into a perfect union.

"Will you stay there with them Alex?" Morgan asked, knowing Doc wanted to ask but wouldn't.

"No, I shall stay here for the time being." She replied calmly as she watched Doc look sharply at her as he lit his smoke.

"Now that your family is here Alex, you don't have to continue cooking." Wyatt offered.

"Thank you for your consideration Wyatt. I'll have to get back to you about that. Angel has suggested I terminate my employment. But honestly, I'm so used to being busy I don't know how I would fill my days if I wasn't cooking."

She heard Doc push back his chair as he turned to look at her. "You could spend your days with me? Has that ever occurred to you?" He had about enough of her subtle galling.

She laughed his suggestion away. "You'd be sick of me after two days Doc. I don't want you to tire of me too quickly." Causally she sipped her drink as she wondered if her last comment would be the one to set him off.

Doc did not disappoint her. He suddenly snubbed out his smoke, took one last mouthful of whiskey before he stood, and grabbed Alex by the arm. "Gentlemen, I hope you will excuse me. I need a moment alone with my paramour."

Alex barely had time to snatch her bag before Doc pulled her through the middle of the saloon and into the kitchen. She struck back as soon as he locked the door behind them. "Your paramour? Tell me I am mistaken and didn't just hear you say that?"

"Oh, you heard me correctly." He said in a low steady voice as he walked toward her. She quickly rounded to the other side of the table.

She wasn't sure if she should be thrilled or annoyed by his admission. "Why would you say that?"

"Because, Darlin' that is exactly what you are. However, I could change your status if you are willing?" He circled the table but she moved away from him again. "Will you hold still, for Christ's sake."

He stepped toward her again and was relieved she didn't move away this time. "Alex…" He began but couldn't find the right words to say, so he kissed her instead.

"Did I hurt you earlier?" He asked when he finally raised his head as he let his hand run down the length of her hair.

She knew he was referring to his rough lovemaking. "Yes you did." She admitted with a lustful gleam in her eye. "But in a good way."

Relieved that he hadn't really hurt her but had only introduced a new element to their coupling. "Want to do it again?" He teased.

"You'll wear a girl out, John." She moved away from his grasp and walked toward the stairs that led to her room. He followed her up the steps and once inside he turned and locked her bedroom door behind them.

* * *

A few minutes after Doc's hasty exit with Alex in tow, Angel walked into the saloon looking for her. He stopped at Wyatt's table and inquired if he had seen her. "She's upstairs with Doc." He replied frankly through a haze of cigar smoke.

"She's what?"

Wyatt nodded as he rolled the brown tobacco from one side of his mouth to the other. "She came in not too long ago. Doc and she had been fighting earlier and he took her upstairs to talk things out, so to speak."

Angel sighed with frustration. "I knew I shouldn't have let her come back here tonight so I came here to take her back to the hotel. I don't entirely approve of this relationship, Mr. Earp. I'm afraid there's going to have to be some changes."

Wyatt waited quietly to see what the other man would do next. Finally, Angel scowled and looked at the ceiling as if imagining what was taking place above him. "Well, at least I know where she is." Then he turned and marched back out the door.

Wyatt chuckled softly. "Well, I think Doc owes me for that little maneuver." He said to Morgan.

"You're the one Wyatt."

* * *

She was surprised when she heard the lock on the door click. "What are you doing?"

"I'm staying."

She dropped her bag in the corner. Doc certainly was quick when it came to locking doors. "It's been a long day John and I'm tired." She needed him to leave. Angel would be expecting her to return to the hotel. She turned to light one candle, as she was blowing out the match she felt his hands turn her around to face him.

"I won't keep you up unless you want me to." He replied playfully.

She sighed with fatigue. Doc never seemed to make things easy for her. "I was serious when I said we should spend some time apart, John." His face darkened as he stared back at her before he closed his eyes and looked away. He appeared to be struggling to maintain his composure. After a moment he looked back and Alex saw he had indeed regained control over his anger.

"You test my patience Alexis. You tell me you are to leave within a week, isn't that enough of a separation for you?"

She stepped away from his embrace and walked to the window. "Perhaps you grow tired of me? Is that it?" She heard him snap.

What was she to do? If she made him leave he would think she no longer cared for him. If she left he would undoubtedly follow her. She could almost hear Angel reminding her that her present dilemma was entirely her own doing.

As if he had read her mind, Angel suddenly appeared in the alley below her window. As she met his gaze her anxiety increased tenfold. Any minute now he would storm in here and create a scene, which would only upset Doc even more than he was. But instead of rushing to the kitchen's back door, he gestured to her, asking if she was coming down.

Slowly she shook her head. He nodded once, motioned that it was okay before he turned and walked away. She lost track of him as he disappeared into the shadows. Off in the distance the sky was beginning to lighten from a deep black to blue-purple. The sun would be rising in an hour or more. No wonder Angel wasn't too upset with her, he would return to the hotel to rest and she should do the same while she had the chance.

She reached up and pulled down the blind and closed the curtains. When she turned to face Doc she saw a man who had come to accept heartbreak and sadness as stables in his life, and so he had once again braced himself to receive a tragic blow.

She walked toward him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, slipping the fingers of one hand through his hair. "You are the air that I breathe, how could I ever grow tired that?" She stood on her toes to kiss him and felt relief flow through his body. He slid his arms around her back and hugged her hard against his chest.

When he finally let her go she gave him a weary smile. "Let's not talk anymore tonight. I'm too tired to quarrel. Can we postpone this debate for another evening and get some sleep?"

"Of course." He dipped his head to kiss her once more.

"Do you want to remain here or go back to Fly's?" She asked.

"Here is fine. I'm afraid if I let you out of this room I'll have trouble locking you up again."

She chuckled softly. "Why do I get the impression you find the idea of caging me appealing?"

"Am I that transparent?" He smirked.

A few minutes later they were both settled in her small bed. Alex lay nestled comfortably against Doc's body with her head rested on his shoulder. A veil of peace settled around them soothing the wounds they had inflicted on one another.

She could feel the warmth of his body slowly saturating every pore in her skin. His steady heartbeat, and clear, strong breathing were lullabies that were slowly dragging her toward sleep. She fingered the soft hairs on his chest the same way he played with her hair that lay draped over his arm. Contentment like she had never known before washed over her.

If she tried hard enough she could imagine that they were husband and wife, resting in their bed, inside a house he had built for her. Tomorrow her husband would rise and dress for his dental office that was in town, and she would stay home to care for their two small children, one still in diapers and the other old enough to learn the alphabet. It would be a perfect world for their family, a perfect world where vampires, demons and monsters that roamed the night no longer existed. A perfect husband who wasn't eagerly seeking the next mission that would jeopardize both their lives as Malachi had done. She wished her dream could become reality, and silently she sent a small prayer heavenward. Maybe, if she were very lucky, God would show her a path that would lead to another open window.

* * *

**A/N - Thanks for reading. Don't forget to leave me a review.**


	31. White Snow, Blood Red Nightmare

**Chapter 30 – White Snow, Blood Red Nightmare **

It was the wind that she noticed first, whirling and rushing along the sides of her house. Its claws were extended as it dragged them across the house's siding making her flinch at every loud and strange sound she heard. She looked out the window again and wondered if this storm would be the one to bring down the old oak tree that stood alongside the driveway. She jumped again when the lights flickered, tricking her into thinking she would be plunged into darkness at a moments notice.

Back in the living room she lit the fireplace to sooth her nerves and chase away the darkness if the lights should go out. Her book was calling to her from its facedown position on the sofa. She wanted to pick it up, find her place where she had paused the story, and sink into a world of pretend romance where the girl is always young and wantoning, and the man is handsome with a haunted past.

But the damn wind wouldn't let her. It was definitely calling to her. She distinctly heard her name. She looked longingly at the book. The handsome man and young girl would have to wait a little longer; she first needed to answer whoever was calling to her.

Her sweater was no match against the cold, bitter wind, she should have grabbed her coat instead, but the front door closed behind her so she continued to walk across the front porch. Snow blew in every direction around her making it very hard to see. She could still hear her name mixing with the musical tones of the wind, so she called back, "I'm here. Right here."

Out in the distance, across the yard, she could see a shape. Slowly it approached, struggling against the notes that floated in the current of air. She stepped off the porch; a sudden fear made her tremble as she walked down the steps and onto the snow covered grass.

There he was, wearing his favorite white shirt and blue jeans, waving at her, telling her to come closer. His long dark hair danced around in the air shading his face from her view. He called again as he held out his hand, and she noticed he still wore his wedding ring.

Ring? There was a kind of ringing behind her. Beautiful ringing, shaped in to a slow, sad melody played flawlessly. She turned back to look at the house. Such beautiful music. She wanted to find the source, but he was still calling her name, and she had yet to give him an answer. When she turned back around he was closer, but she still could not see his face through his hair. He reached out his hand again, and through the lush tones of music she began to reach back. But when the song grew stronger she hesitated and turned her head to look back toward the house.

"Alexis." He called once more.

She turned away from the music. The snow squall seemed to be weakening because she could see him more clearly now. There was a choice and she made her decision. She reached out further, and when her fingertips brushed against his she noticed a small red stain on the sleeve of his shirt. She raised her eyes to seek his face hidden by his hair, and just as he grasp her hand the wind changed direction and his hair lifted to reveal two luminous eyes.

Alex's dream ended abruptly when she bolted to a sitting position in bed. She had almost screamed, but it was good that she didn't, or it would have disturbed whoever was playing Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata on the piano downstairs.

She looked about the room. Her bed was empty and Doc was nowhere in sight. She reached for his pocket watch to check the time. Half past ten. She had slept late today. She quickly slipped on her dress and shoes and went downstairs.

She noticed the smell of fresh coffee warming on the newly stoked stove as she made her way through the kitchen and opened the door to the saloon to peek out. The room was still. Obviously, Milt had not opened yet. She stood in the kitchen doorway and watched Doc play. He was totally engrossed in the song. His body swayed rhythmically, his shoulders bending forward as he struck the black and white keys.

She stayed where she was, afraid of moving and breaking his concentration. He was reaching the end of the final movement, the presto agitato, the most powerful part of the sonata and also the saddest part. As beautiful as the music was it always spoke to her of grief and made her feel like crying.

When his fingers struck the final chords, Doc sat back and breathed deeply. He rubbed his sweaty fingers across the tops of his legs. Playing the piano always made him sweat. When he reached for his coffee cup sitting on top of the instrument, he saw Alex out of the corner of his eye.

He smiled and extended his hand toward her. "Did I wake you?"

For just a moment his outstretched hand made her shiver as a vision from her dream broke through reality. The saloon faded and was replaced by a snowy night and a man with a small bloodstain on his white shirt. She blinked twice and shook off the illusion as she walked toward the piano.

"No, you didn't wake me." She sat next to him on the bench and received his morning kiss. "That was beautiful. I didn't know you could play."

He looked around the room. "The acoustics are so much better when this place is empty."

"How long have you been up?" She watched as he lightly fingered the keys, stringing several chores together at random before picking up a nocturne by Chopin, played it for a few more moments and then let his hand fall back to rest on his leg.

"Hmm, not long."

"Did you sleep well?" She asked.

He grinned at her. "You snore Alexis."

"Thank you. I shall remember you said that." She replied dryly.

He chuckled and reached up to smooth the loose ends of her hair.

"Have I any other flaws you wish to bring to my attention?"

His eyes grew thoughtful and serious. "There is one other item that has me concerned. Do you often have bad dreams, darlin?" He rested his hand against her back as he waited for an answer.

She looked away from his face and made a study of the piano keys as the roaring wind echoed in her head. "Why do you ask?"

Soothingly, his hand ran up and down her spine. "Because you had one last night. I begin to see why you always look tired. Do you remember what it was about?"

_Last night and this morning? _"No." She lied before quickly changing the subject. "What would you like for breakfast? I could make you eggs benedict and fried ham."

He frowned at her curt reply, but decided not to push the issue. He leaned in and kissed her softly. "How about eggs and ham, but without the hollandaise sauce, it's not one of my favorites.

She smiled brightly back at him. "Your wish is my command, sir."

"Well, in that case…"

His hands were amazingly fast as he grabbed her and lifted her across his lap. Alex issued an appropriate squeal of protest before relaxing into his embrace. John leaned her back across his arm while slipping his free hand around her waist. He held her tightly against his chest and kissed her again. "What I really wish for…," he whispered into her ear, "…is to play you as well as I played this piano."

He then proceeded to tell her exactly how he would accomplish this task, and Alex found she was more than willing to comply.


	32. The Consumption Conundrum

**Chapter 31 - The Consumption Conundrum**

"You can get dressed now, Dr. Holliday." Dr. Goodfellow was still shaking his head over the dramatic medical change in his patient. He replaced both stethoscopes he had used during his examination back in his medical bag. "I still don't know how this could be possible?"

More than slightly annoyed at the physician's confusion, Doc continued to button his shirt. "Obviously, you are mistaken in your diagnosis."

"I'm not arguing with you. I'm an old man, Dr. Holliday, and maybe my hearing is failing me. We must have Dr. Matthew examine you and form a second opinion."

"Are you sure your instruments are reliable?"

"Yes, I'm quite sure." He reached again into his bag and pulled one stethoscope free. "This one is new. I just received it last week. I like to have a backup for instances such as this."

Doc's scowl darkened as he turned away to face a small mirror and began to fasten his cravat. Dr. Goodfellow continued to hover near his shoulder, which was only annoying him more.

"You said you were feeling better as well?" He didn't wait for Doc to answer. "No, I believe I am correct in my diagnosis, but I'll be damn if I know how it could be possible. If this continues to hold true, you would be the first patient that I've ever encountered who has completely healed from consumption. Some go into remission but the lungs never fully heal. The damage to the organ is permanent. But unless I am very seriously mistaken, you have the lungs of a very healthy thirty-year old man."

"You and I are both well aware, one does not simply recover from consumption, let alone in just forty-eight hours. Therefore, either your instruments are faulty, or your initial diagnosis was incorrect." Doc snapped.

Dr. Goodfellow was unmoved by his anger. He even smiled slightly has he restated his opinion. "Then explain to me how you could be feeling better? You were a very sick man two days ago, Dr. Holliday. You had one foot in the grave and were dangling the other over the edge. Today, there's not a damn thing wrong with you. I'd take an oath on it."

Still suspicious, Doc narrowed his eyes before asking, "What else was in that bottle of laudanum?"

"Nothing. It is just laudanum. Nothing more." His smile was getting broader by the minute.

Doc could only shake his head. "But this is impossible, isn't it?"

"As far as I know, yes. It is either a miracle, or Miss. Montgomery must be an exceptional nurse. Perhaps it is both."

Doc abruptly stopped fastening his shoulder holster. "You told Alex how sick I was?" He asked in a low, steady voice that had nothing to do with the joviality of the moment.

Dr. Goodfellow's smile rapidly disappeared. Slightly alarmed at the dangerous way the other man was looking at him, he nodded. "She was very concerned, and if she was there to nurse you, then she had a right to know how sick you were. I'm sorry if that doesn't meet with your approval."

Doc exhaled loudly. "The last thing I would have wanted was to alarm her." Now he understood why Alex didn't want to stay behind with him, or allow him to accompany her back home. Of course she wouldn't want to be emotional attached to a man who was knocking on death's door. His only hope was this contradictive diagnosis. Could it be true, was he really healed?

_What if you could overcome your illness and live a long healthy life, would you make a different choice?_

Alex's earlier words seemed to haunt him, but how could she have known?

_Silly girl, that card is not in the hand I was dealt._

_Don't be so sure, John. The odds may have just tipped in your favor._

No. It was impossible. She was not a prophet. She was just a wayward girl with something to hide.

Desperate to lighten his patient's mood, Dr. Goodfellow continued on a positive note. "Dr. Matthew will be returning to town in a few days. I shall make arrangements to have him examine you. Until then, try not to worry." He gently patted the other man on the back and gave him one of his compassionate smiles.

Still stewing over the good doctor's ignorance, Doc paid for his time and walked out. His next errand was to check the stage schedule. He intended to purchase two tickets for the next stagecoach heading north; after that he had one more very important stop to make. However short or long it might be, tonight he would know for sure whether he had a future or not.

* * *

Alex's day was not as hopeful. After she washed and dressed for the day, she whipped up a large batch of beef stew for the evening meal, and then she went to see Angel. It was during her visit that her day took the final plunge. For the past ten minutes she had been sitting in silence as he lectured her about her current failures. Apparently, Angel was just a tiny bit upset over her sleeping with Doc last night.

"Alex you're way off base! You have to stop your affair with Doc Holliday. Don't you see how it's getting in the way of your mission?"

"Angel, I love that you're looking out for me. I really do. And I completely understand where you're coming from, but sometimes things just happen. Considering _your_ past relationships, you should be able to understand that better then anyone."

He gave her an evil look and raised one finger at her fully prepared to continue his lecture but stop mid-way. He sighed heavily. "You know, you should have been a lawyer instead of a Guardian Alex. It suits you."

She gave him a stern look as her lips thinned into a tight frown. "There's no need to be insulting, Angel. Condescending will do just fine."

He paused as he looked at her closely. "Do you love him?"

She looked down at her hands. "Yes." She answered so softly only someone with supernatural hearing could have heard her.

"Then I guess talking to you is useless, isn't it?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Does he know how you feel?"

She shook her head as she looked away from his critical eyes again. Admitting that she had feelings for Doc was hard enough, but telling him how she felt was not something she wasn't ready to do. The situation was uncomfortable enough just talking to Angel about it. Clearly it was time for a change of subject.

"Where's Spike?"

Angel rolled his eyes at his other problem. "He's downstairs at the bar. I asked him to keep a low profile and stay in the room, but no one seems to want to listen to me anymore."

She rose from the sofa. "I'll go get him. Then I need to set up a barrier to prevent Malachi from entering Doc's room again. I didn't get to it last night. After that I should go back to the Oriental and serve dinner."

"As soon as the sun sets, Spike and I will start to patrol. Come find us as soon as you can."

She nodded in agreement and left.

Spike was not at the bar as Angel had suggested. As Alex walked up to the bartender to inquire about his whereabouts, she was surprised to find the rough men standing around the bar not only polite, but very eager to step out of her way. If Wyatt or Virgil had been there they would have found the situation amusing, knowing full well how Doc had made it known around town that there would be retribution if anyone touched or spoke harshly to the Oriental's cook.

As soon as the bartender noticed her he also greeted her polity. "What can I do for you Miss?"

"I'm looking for a blonde gentlemen with an English accent. I was told he was here having a drink."

He nodded and smiled with recognition. "Oh, yes, I remember him. He took up a game of poker with the Johnson brothers. They have a room here at the hotel."

Inwardly, Alex felt her irritation rising, but outwardly she smiled politely in return and walked to the front desk to get the Johnson's room number. Once she got the room number she didn't go directly to the room, instead she headed back to see Angel. He was not pleased when he heard where Spike was.

"See, this is what I'm talking about." He gestured wildly at Alex. "No one but me understands the meaning of a low profile. If dictionaries existed during this era, I would look up the definition and refresh some memories." He stomped over to the mirror and began to tie his cravat. Why he felt it was necessary to be properly dressed to fetch Spike from a poker game was beyond Alex's imagination. She just figured Angel was too busy ranting to fully comprehend what he was doing.

"Actually, the first American dictionary was printed by Webster in 1806. If you want, I can try to find one while I'm out today." She sat on the arm of an upholstered chair as she watched him fumble with the silk material. He turned and flashed her a dark look before turning back to the mirror as he tried to fasten his cravat again. Finally, after watching him become more frustrated she moved to help him.

"I'm sorry you have to go get him, but if I knock on that door it would embarrass him and make me look bad. Apparently, women don't drag their men home from poker games in the Victorian era. Perhaps while I'm here I'll suggest they start. There, all done." She stood back to admire her handy work.

He looked in the mirror and nodded satisfactorily. "I can tell you've done this before. I would have thought you'd be busy undressing Holiday."

"Actually, we have used his cravats to tie each other up during sex." She replied with a cocky grin.

"Socks work better." Angel quickly suggested.

"Whoa!" She passed her hand over her eyes. "I just got a mental picture of you, a bed, and a pair of socks. Ok. I'm leaving now." She quickly turned away before he saw how embarrassed she was.

"Women's garters work good too, but the girl needs to have nice long legs to reach the bedposts." Angel grinned widely at her departing form.

"I'm not hearing this." Alex covered her ears with her hands.

"Of course, I've always preferred leather. That's when the ties from my leather breeches came in handy."

"Stop, please stop." She pleaded as she fumbled for the doorknob.

He laughed and called out as she quickly shut the door behind her. "Face it Alex, I'm older and have more insurance."

She had no sooner walked out the lobby doors and stepped onto the sidewalk, when she heard her name being called. She turned to find Allie and Louisa Earp walking toward her.

"Alexis, how wonderful." Allie gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "Lou and I were just going for tea come join us."

She greeted the two women warmly as she prepared to decline their offer. "Actually, I have an errand to run. Perhaps another time." But Allie only smiled more and shook her head as she glanced at Louisa for conformation. The two women giggled as they flanked Alex on both sides.

"I'm afraid we're going to have to insist. We have some good gossip to tell you and it can't wait." With that said, she looped her hand around Alex's arm and led her in the direction of a small tea parlor down the street.

Alex was more than anxious about not tending to the protection spell in Doc's room, but she didn't see a way of refusing without appearing rude. She hoped a quick cup of tea would suffice and then she could leave her friends to finish her task.

Once seated, they ordered a pot of tea with cake. "We've been shopping together." Louisa began. "Morgan and Virgil insisted we not venture out alone, even during the day. Allie and I've been having so much fun doing our shopping together we're both sure to spend our husbands into the poor house. Look what I found at the tailor shop down the street." She opened a small white box and pulled out a beaded purse in a delicate shade of peach with matching silk gloves trimmed on the cuff with identical beads found on the purse.

Alex had to admit it was darling, as she held the purse in her hands. Never in her life had she owned anything so feminine and decadent. During her teenage years, she had worn a uniform while attending school. After she graduated, she went straight into trainings as a Guardian, which didn't require anything more then jeans or sweatpants. Most of her street clothes were masculine in appearance, consisting of leather pants or jeans, boots and a sweater, and the occasional cotton shirt. Back home she had two or three dresses appropriate for dinning out and one business suit. Only her wedding dress had been lavish in appearance and even that she had felt uncomfortable wearing, but her aunt had insisted she purchase something worthy to wear for a wedding mass.

"It's beautiful." She whispered as she lightly fingered the beads.

Louisa beamed with pride. "Isn't it? But wait, look what Allie bought."

Allie reached into her purse and unwrapped an ivory hair comb carved into the shape of a butterfly. "Oh, how wonderful. What's the occasion?" Alex asked.

"No occasion. Just general wifely frustration." Allie joked. "They'll be sorry they ever got us together. That's for sure."

Alex couldn't help but laugh as well.

"But that's not why we stopped you." She paused as the waiter brought their tea and poured. As soon as he left she eagerly continued. "It's what we saw while we were shopping that caught our interest. Or, perhaps we should say _who_ we saw." She looked over at Louisa and both women gleamed over their secret.

"The tailor shop is across the street from the jewelers. As Lou and I were in the tailors who do you think we saw in the jewelers taking great care over a purchase?" She paused for dramatic effect, took in Alex's confused appearance and then continued. "Can you guess?"

Alex shook her head as she sipped her tea.

"I'll give you a clue…. He was tall, blonde, good looking in a devilish kind of way. Oh and sober, which I find to be a surprise considering how rare that occurrence can be." She looked over at Louisa and both women fell into peals of laughter.

"Allie what are you saying?" Alex finally asked.

She smacked her lightly on the arm. "Silly, Doc was buying you a wedding ring."

Alex's grip on her teacup fumbled causing her to drop the china cup on the table, spilling her tea. The waiter came over quickly to assist in the clean up making Allie and Louisa wait to continue their story.

"What?" Alex hissed as soon as the waiter left.

"Yep. We could see him clear as day. He spent a great deal of time looking at a couple of dozen rings before choosing one. Gosh, we must have stayed in the tailor shop for at least thirty minutes watching him. When he left he had the ring in his pocket, Alex."

Alex was in shock. She shook her head back and forth as she raised her cup with a trembling hand. "No, Allie. You must be mistaken." She took deep sip of tea hoping to calm the butterflies in her stomach.

"I'd wager a month of Virgil's pay that I'm right. That ring is for you and he's fixing to propose."

"No. Impossible." Alex replied firmly.

"I'll say it's impossible." Louisa sprouted. "I never in a million years thought he'd get married. He always seemed too cold to be attached to anyone. Obviously, you have unthawed the ice king."

"But this is terrible." Alex cried in distress.

Both Allie and Louise were stunned and confused. "Alex, I thought you and Doc were getting on so well. Virgil mentioned how cozy you two have been lately. Don't you like him?" Allie gently inquired.

"I'm in love with him." She admitted with fresh tears in her eyes. "But that doesn't mean I can marry him."

Allie looked at her sister-in-law even more confused then before. Louisa gave her a pointed look and then Allie realized what the problem might be. "You're already engaged, aren't you?" She asked with obvious grief.

Alex shook her head as she reached into her sleeve, removed the hanky Doc had given her, and began to blot her eyes.

"Are you honor bound to marry someone else? Did your family arrange a marriage for you?" Louise asked in a hush tone.

Again Alex shook her head. "No, it's nothing like that. I just can't marry him."

"Oh, I see, your family may not approve. It's true, Doc doesn't come with the best references, but I'm told he comes from a very good family in the East. He's well educated Alex and is, or was, socially accepted before he came out West. He told Morgan all about his past one night as the two of them got drunk on my front porch."

"No. It's not that either." She sniffed loudly and wiped her nose. "It's hard to explain."

"Is it because he's sick?" Allie asked.

Alex chuckled softly through her tears at her friend's confusion. "I wouldn't care if he only had two months to live, I'd marry him if I could and be thrilled if I could make him happy for the rest of his days, but it just isn't possible. Please don't ask me why. I can't explain." She quickly stood up to leave. "I'm sorry, I have to go and run my errand now."

Allie grabbed her hand. "Alex, please don't leave. We're sorry if we got you upset."

"No. It's not that. I'm fine, just a little stunned that's all."

"What will you do if he proposes?"Allie gently asked.

"I have no idea. I'll just have to hope he doesn't. Maybe that ring isn't for me. It could be a present for someone else. Perhaps he got back in touch with Kate." But even as the words were coming out of her mouth she could feel her heart constrict with pain. What would she do if he bought a ring for Kate? "What am I saying?" She aloud. "I'll kill him if he has."

She shook off that thought and tried to smile, but it felt forced and hard coming. "I must run. Thank you for the tea." She leaned in and kissed each woman on the cheek and left quickly.

The fresh air outside felt heaven sent, but it did little to cool Alex's hot emotions. There was no way she could go to Doc's room now. If she saw him alone it might give him the opportunity to what… propose, or tell you he's marrying Kate? Or, maybe he'll say nothing, and you'll have to sit there and wonder what he's thinking.

She had walked halfway back to the Oriental when she remembered Angel's morning lecture. He was right. She was letting her affair with Doc get in the way of the mission. It really shouldn't matter if Doc proposed or not, either way the outcome would have no effect on her life. She had been acting like a silly, love struck schoolgirl, and it was time to grow up and face reality. Reluctantly, she changed directions and headed toward Fly's rooming house.


	33. Music Box

**A/N: Here's that pesky Mature Adult warning, again. ****Please leave me a review when you're done reading. Thanks!**

* * *

**Chapter 32 – Music Box**

Doc had finished his errands for the day and returned to his room. After he had left the jewelers he wanted desperately to see Alex and propose, but he found he lacked the courage. This feeling was new. It was funny really, he had faced numerous derelicts with guns over the years and not once had he flinched. The years he spent in Texas had been nothing but one gun battle after another, and yet the thought of dying had never alarmed him. He had faced those desperadoes with a song in his heart. The only thing that struck fear in his soul was the wasteful, lingering way he would eventually die. He had watched too many loved ones face the same fate to not be aware of the horrid reality before him.

Yes, dying of consumption frightened him, but proposing to Alex struck him dumb. His mouth got dry and his hands would sweat just thinking about how to ask her. He needed to find just the right approach when she would be open to accept him and not defensive or cautious.

But courage wasn't the only obstacle. He realized he would have to overcome and sooth Alex's doubts about a future with him, but he first needed to overcome his own misgivings about marriage. Perhaps his idea to take Alex for his wife wasn't a good one. Did he really want to make her a widow twice over? What if Dr. Goodfellow was mistaken in his diagnosis? _Fool, what if he's right._ In all probability, the good doctor was more than likely wrong. But still, what if Alex and he had children and then his illness got worse? How would she support herself? He could instruct her to move to Georgia, but he wondered if his family would forgive him enough to take care of his wife and children after he was gone. Or, perhaps her family would allow her to move back home. These were questions that plagued his mind.

So instead of walking to the Oriental to see Alex, he decided to come back to his room and answer his cousin Robert's latest letter. He was long over due in replying having been so preoccupied with Alex these last few days. Perhaps he should mention his concerns to Robert. He was about the only person in the family he could rely upon. If Robert gave his word he would look after Alex then it would ease his mind a great deal.

He reached across the desk to inspect his latest purchase again. The small, silver music box had been an afterthought, but now that he really looked at it he found it to be quite charming. It fit in the palm of his hand and was oval in shape with the sides engraved with climbing roses and ivy. Carved on the lid were two doves with their heads inclined toward one another. He lifted the lid and looked at the gold emerald ring that lay on a cushion of black velvet inside. The stone would almost match the shade of green in Alex's eyes. That was the main reason he had chosen this ring from all the others. The two diamonds that offset the stone added the perfect touch. He wound the key on the back of the music box and listened to Beethoven's Fur Elise. He smiled. It was perfect. Really, how could she say no. Now all he had to do was work up the nerve to ask her.

He was half a page into his letter to Robert when he heard a soft knock on his door. He quickly fanned the paper to let the ink dry and turned the letter face down on the desk before he answered. He couldn't have been more surprised when he opened the door and found Alex standing there.

"Alex…"

"Did I catch you at a bad time?" The look on his face when he opened the door made her uneasy. For just a moment she thought he might not be alone and that notion had frightened and angered her at the same time.

Doc quickly overcame his shock and did his best to hide his nervousness. "No, not at all. Come in, please." He gave her a quick kiss on the mouth once he had closed the door behind her. "You just took me by surprise. Why the impromptu visit?"

"I missed you." She said shyly as she reached for his hand. She had planned those words to be a boldfaced lie in order to weasel her way into this room, but as they were coming out of her mouth she realized she meant every word she said. She really had been missing him since he had left her earlier that morning. When had this little emotional bond started? _Focus girl_, she reminded herself.

She had knocked on his door first to see if he might be at home. She had hoped he wasn't, which would allow her to enter, do the protection spell and then leave unnoticed, but since he was at home she quickly switched to 'plan B'.

He sprouted a small cocky smile. "Missed me, uh? Oh, I think I can fix that."

He reached out with one finger, touched it to her lips and slowly traced the outline of her mouth. When he slipped his finger inside her mouth, Alex felt her skin get hot. It absolutely amazed her how one simple touch could send every thought straight out of her head. The only part of her anatomy that seemed to be thinking suddenly spoke loud and clear.

_I missed you._ The words were like music and it worked on him like a powerful aphrodisiac. She missed him. When or how did this wonderful transformation take place? He dipped his head to capture her mouth with a powerful kiss while he simultaneously trailed his wet finger down her throat, across her collarbone, and down the front of her dress to finally stop at her breast where he concentrated on slowly circling her protruding nipple.

"We never did finish our conversation last night." He had managed to open eight buttons on the front of her dress and now had her breasts exposed.

"Conversation?" She had no idea what he was talking about, nor did she care at the moment.

"Yes, don't you remember?" He said in a sensuous whisper. He sucked gently on the side of her neck as he finished undoing the remaining buttons. "We were discussing how you could spend your days with me instead of cooking."

He lifted her breast from the confines of her chemise, licked the tip of her nipple and smiled when he got an appropriate response from Alex. Before she could reply he kissed her again and pushed her back one step closer to the bed. "I would now like to discuss, in detail, how your time could be spent while in my company." Now that he had finished unfastening the top of her dress, he turned his attention to the bottom half.

As soon as his hand moved to unfasten her skirt, Alex struggled to over come the seductive atmosphere he was weaving around her. She was getting sidetracked again, and Angel would not be pleased with her if she didn't finish what she setout to do. She reached down and placed her hand over his to stop him. "You know, maybe we should think things through before we discuss this openly?"

He was busy sucking on her neck, already an expert at setting off one of her sexual triggers. She heard him chuckle softly and felt the soft rumble of a suppressed groan. When his teeth nipped her sharply right below her ear she forgot herself again, giving him the opportunity he needed to slip his hand under the waistband on her skirt, slide his palm down her backside and slip between her legs as he advanced on another one of her triggers.

She groaned as he stroked her through her undergarments. "You were saying…" He asked softly.

"Never mind. It's not important." She reached around his neck and kissed him deeply. Alex almost stopped him again when she heard him laugh at her for the second time, but Doc wasn't wasting any time now that he had her moving in the right direction.

By the time she felt the back of her legs hit the bed she wasn't thinking about her mission, Angel, cooking the evening meal or anything else, except for the warm, sensual man loving her.

* * *

She woke just as the sun was setting. As soon as she moved to rise from the bed Doc stirred beside her. "Where are you going?" His voice was heavy and still filled with sleep.

"It's late. I have to get back to the Oriental and serve dinner."

"Nonsense." He grabbed her and pulled her back down on the bed. "What you need to do is stay with me." He quickly covered her with his body. When she resisted by placing her hands on his shoulders he grabbed her by the wrists and pinned her arms above her head.

For a moment fear struck her. Would he be able to see her tattoos with her arms in this position? But then she realized the soft twilight would be sufficient to hide her marks. "You're a terrible distraction John, and a terrible pest."

He laughed at her attitude and then he kissed her to shut her up and to divert her attention elsewhere. His diversion worked in her favor as well. Slowly, she slipped her arms free from his hold and wrapped them around his back.

"So, I'm distracting you? From what exactly?"

"I had another purpose when I came here today. William wanted me to tell you about a card game at the Grande he thought you might like to join." Her guilt swelled as she lied to him, even though her 'plan B' story was really only a partial lie. No doubt Spike would have enjoyed the opportunity to play cards with Doc, and Angel would have welcomed the entertainment value Doc's presence would have presented to his bored comrade. Not that it mattered now, more than likely Angel had managed to breakup the game or the event had ended on its own.

"Did he now? Well, you're not very good at relaying messages are you?"

She laughed back at his teasing. "Something suddenly came up."

"Hmm." He murmured as his lips ran across her shoulder. "Are you complaining, darlin? Was it not good for you?" He felt his passion rise again when Alex wrapped her leg around his and arched against him as he kissed her. "Would you like for me to try again?" He whispered in her ear.

"Yes, actually, I would." She replied in a husky voice. "But you will have to wait until later tonight." She barely controlled her humor when he grunted with disapproval but move away from her anyway. "You're losing money sitting here and so am I."

"True." He admitted. "Remind me to speak to Milt about terminating your employment."

"Why would you do that?" She asked as she moved off the bed to light a candle and began to dress with her back turned towards him.

"Because I want you by my side and not behind a hot stove." He stood up from the bed and stretched his arms and that is when he noticed he had left the music box sitting on his desk. He glanced quickly at Alex to make sure she hadn't seen it, as he moved to hide the box before she noticed. He had just opened the dresser drawer when he hesitated. Should he ask her now? What could be better then proposing to a woman after you've spent the afternoon making love to her? He was just about to begin, but she spoke before he did.

"Oh? Do you plan to turn me into another Kate? Shall I fawn over you while you aggravate your opponent so he doesn't notice you're cheating him at cards?" She teased.

_Kate? Dear God, did she have to bring up Kate now?_ He hid the box under some handkerchiefs and closed the drawer. It would have to wait. Obviously, now was not the time. "Yes, you may fawn over me, but you'll have to get a low cut dress and show some cleavage if you want to fill Kate's shoes."

"Cute."

"And for your information, I do not cheat… much." He gave her a slow, cocky smile. "Obviously I need to improve my technique if you, of all people, noticed that I sometimes manipulate the averages."

She rolled her eyes at him and tried not to laugh at his well-chosen words. "Hurry and dress before Wyatt comes looking for me. You know he's a bear when he's hungry."

They walked to the Oriental together and went their separate ways once they got inside. Doc immediately joined a poker game and Alex hurried to serve the evening meal.

Two and a half hours later the flow of hungry men lessened enough for her to close the kitchen early. She couldn't have been happier. She would change her clothes at Angel's hotel room and then hurry back to Fly's to do the protection spell. After that she would be able to help Angel and Spike with the evening patrol. Maybe, just maybe, tonight would be the night she could finish the mission.

She finished drying the last dish and went upstairs to her room. She checked her weapons bag, added a clean set of clothes to patrol in, a regular outfit for later, and then dropped the bag out her bedroom window to the alley below. Now she could go tell Doc she was leaving to visit her cousins, which would give her a legitimate excuse to break away from his protective presence.

When she entered the saloon Doc was neck deep in a poker game with three of the roughest looking men she had ever seen. They had a hard, dangerous air about them, giving her serious doubt about leaving him alone. As she approached him from behind, she looked around the room to see where the Earp brothers were. She saw Wyatt and Morgan standing with their backs to the bar as they watched the room with caution. She must have relayed some of her insecurity about Doc's current companions because when her eyes met Wyatt's briefly, he glanced quickly in Doc's direction before nodding his head at her, letting her know he was watching the situation carefully. She gave him a grateful smile as she approached the poker game.

She nodded to the rough men at the table when they raised their eyes to stare at her. Inwardly she shivered as she tired to hide her distaste at the way their eyes roamed freely over her body. When she placed her hand on Doc's shoulder he paused from his conversation to look in her direction. Alex noticed his eyes had an alcohol induced glaze as he stared back at her.

"Darlin', have you met the Johnson brothers? They tell me they had the pleasure of making your cousin William's acquaintance earlier this afternoon." He smiled boldly as he waited for her reaction.

Smoothly, she returned his smile. She glanced once more at the other men and said, "Lovely. Now that we are all friends we must make a date when you can come for tea. " She heard Doc snicker before she turned to address him. "Doc, I'm going to the Grande for a visit with my family."

He nodded his approval. "And I shall remain here and get to know our new friends better. I'll come for you later. I suggest you don't make it too hard for me to find you." He grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it as he met her gaze.

For just a moment Alex saw the full depth of his feelings for her, and that's when she knew. Allie and Louisa were right. Doc did mean to propose and he was planning on doing it tonight. Now what should she do?

She nodded once more to him before she turned and walked toward the bar. "Keep him out of trouble if you can Wyatt."

Wyatt chuckled. "Alex you ask the impossible."

"Ain't that the truth." Morgan echoed.

"Did Virgil go home?" She asked.

"Yeah. Virgil is going to be a busy man this evening." Wyatt leaned in and whispered, "It's apron night. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about." She heard Morgan laugh under his breath as he shook his head.

Alex quickly clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. "Oh, my God! Do you know about that too?"

"Of course. It's Virgil's favorite night of the week."

"You should try it Wyatt. It's not half bad. Allie keeps passing those cute little aprons to Louisa. I'm actually growing very fond of them." Morgan freely confessed.

Wyatt shook his head with disbelief. Then he nodded in Doc's direction. "Does he know about aprons Alex?" Wyatt's smile continued to grow as he watched her face flush deeply.

"Yes, he does, but not intimately…yet. Let's just say I've tested the waters and found them agreeable."

"Well, I don't know what you're waiting for. Never put off for tomorrow what you can do today, my Pa always said."

"That will be quite enough from the both of you." She scolded as she turned to walk out the back door where she could collect her bag and disappear down the street unnoticed. As she passed Doc's table she looked over at him, but he was too busy making a derogatory comment to the Johnson brothers to notice her.


	34. Confrontation

**Chapter 33 – Confrontation **

Angel and Spike were gone by the time she arrived at the hotel. However, Angel had left her a cryptic note.

_Dear Alexis, _

_William and I have gone sight seeing. We both suggest you try it sometime. The exercise is good for your health and the activity is good for your soul. If you plan on joining us, we suggest you hurry._

XXX OOO

_Angel _

So, he was pissed that she hadn't return sooner. What else was new? She gathered the hugs and kisses added to the end of the note were from Spike. He had also crossed out the name William and wrote Spike above it. Some things never change. She balled up the note and tossed it in the wastepaper basket next to the desk as she made her way into the bathroom to change her clothes.

* * *

A tall, handsome man walked down Freemont Street seemingly without a care. Every so often he would stop to nod in greeting as several groups of women passed. He even helped one young lady pick up her parcels after she had carelessly dropped them. She thanked him profusely and continued on her way unmolested.

He was a striking man with dark hair, and contrasting blue eyes that shone with brilliance from a smooth shaven face with high cheekbones, and a wide-sensual mouth that held perfect white teeth. His hair was of a medium length that fell over his ears, and across his forehead with a soft, lazy fullness that many women long to possess. His manner of clothing provoked no opposition as he wore the style of most outdoorsy men, which consisted of dungaree pants, matching jacket and plaid flannel shirt. His boots were scuffed and well worn, but still held a memory of their original brown color. He wore no visible weapon of any kind and he carried no bedroll or knapsack, so one might assume he lived nearby and had ventured to town to do some shopping, or to drink and gamble as most men did in their spare time.

If this was a passerby's assumption, they were dead wrong.

He had come to town for one purpose and that sinister task would not take him very long to finish. He had heard a troubled whisper from his informant and had come to town to discover for himself if the rumors were true. If his zombie's information was correct, he had badly miscalculated. He had hoped to keep the Earps and Alex in emotional turmoil by either killing or turning several members of their tightly knit group, but apparently his beautiful Guardian had decided to stop playing by the rules. His concern was not a great one, after tonight he would be back on track and in control.

Malachi stopped in the vacate lot next to the OK Corral and looked up at the balcony of the boarding house next door. He glanced up and down the street to make sure he was unobserved, and then he jumped straight-up, some twenty-five feet into the air, before he landed on silent cat feet on the balcony's wooden boards. As he approached the double doors that led to the room inside, he pulled a small pocketknife from his pants pocket and slid the thin blade down to the latching mechanism that held the doors shut. He issued a grunt of approval when the doors popped open without a sound.

Once inside his mood suddenly changed. He could smell the lingering odor of sex in the air. The sheets on the bed reeked of it. He glanced around the room and didn't see the object of his visit. _Bloody hell,_ he thought. Holliday was not at home. He had so wanted to suck the dentist dry. Now more so then ever, as it was very apparent Alex had broken protocol and become personally involved. He could smell her arousal mixed with Holliday's body fluid. Clearly, his wife was fucking another man. Well, he could change that easily enough, but the task would not be accomplished tonight. He would, however, leave his calling card to let them both know he would be back to finish the job later.

* * *

She caught up to Angel and Spike not too far from the hotel. Right away she saw that both men had abandoned their stylish clothing for common work clothing consisting of dungarees, cotton shirts and leather jackets. The jackets, she noticed, hung to mid-thigh, which easily hid any weapons they carried. Obviously, Angel anticipated engaging the enemy tonight.

She was also outfitted for battle. Her own sword was safely hidden in the folds of her cloak and her vest was laced with a fresh supply of throwing darts. Physically she was ready. Her emotional platform, however, still needed some reinforcement.

A slight chill coursed down her spine at the thought of finally engaging Malachi in battle. She was frightened of him; there was no sense in trying to convince herself she wasn't. Malachi had been a formable opponent when he was alive, but the unnatural state in which he now existed would make killing him next to impossible. He was stronger and faster then she was. Her only hope lay in Angel and Spike's assistance. Lord only knows, it would take all three of them to bring Malachi down and put an end to his reign of terror.

Briefly she wondered what odds Doc would calculate for her survival if he knew exactly what she planned to do. Three warriors against one were very good odds. Why then did she have this uneasy feeling in her stomach?

As she approached her friends she saw Spike was carrying a rolled up map in his one hand. So he had managed to get a map that would show them the layout of all the mine locations in the area, which meant there was a night of research in stored for her. Good thing she had some nooky and a nap today. She thought she had her contented smile under control as she greeted them but from the look on Angel's face she didn't quite succeed.

"Where have you been?" Angel demanded.

"Been busy." She replied lightly and with a lustful grin. He rolled his eyes at her and looked away.

"I see you managed to locate a map." She said to Spike as she silently acknowledged his expression of approval. At least someone was happy for her.

"Yep. We did the old distract and snatch routine. Angel kept them busy and I broke in the back window."

"Good." She replied. "Any activity on the street?"

"None so far. I guess we should split up, do a quick patrol and meet back at the hotel." Angel suggested.

She nodded in agreement but before she could turn away he pointed one finger at her and ordered, "Don't get distracted anymore tonight. Where is he by the way?"

"Poker with the Johnson Brothers. Who, by the way, told me to tell you howdy, William. What a lovely disposition those boys have. How did you make out with your game?"

"I was scalped." He replied dryly.

"I believe Doc might be able to recoup your loses for you. He was holding a full house when I left. Oh, before I forget, he'll will be coming by the hotel to get me later."

"Gee, what a surprise." Angel mocked.

She laughed at his bad mood and turned to Spike to join in on the fun, when she saw he was looking intently across the street.

"Oy, mate. We've got company." He nodded in the general direction of the Grande hotel. "I saw three of them in the alley that crosses behind the hotel. I think one of them might be your zombie Alex. He was walking awful peculiar."

"Great, and me without my gasmask." She replied as she followed Angel and Spike across the street.

Spike's prediction proved to be true. Behan was stumbling and wobbling along side two vampires she didn't recognize. It appeared to Alex like they were looking for a way to enter the hotel from a side door.

Behan's condition had gotten so much worse. His clothes hung in rags off his body. From head to toe he was covered in vegetation and dried mud, as if he had been buried in the earth, and then clawed his way above ground. Which was probably true. The sunlight would be painful for him now so he would have to remain hidden during the day, but no one in their right mind would want to have his rotting, smelly body with in a thirty-yard radius, including vampires, which meant Behan was now spending his days underground.

Walking looked painful and difficult for him, and he no longer made an effort to look around his environment. Instead, his arms hung loosely at his sides and his head remain bowed as he focused his vision on the ground before him. The soul of one shoe was ripped and flapped as he walked. Alex saw he still wore no socks, which gave her a good view of his naked toes protruding from the ripped shoe. The other foot dragged along the ground as if he could no long lift his leg properly. His gate now had a hip-hop music tempo. _Swoosh, cur-slap. Swoosh, cur-slap. Swoosh, cur-slap_.

His fading appearance was very disturbing. She knew she should feel pity for this poor man who was suffering a great deal. However, what set her hair standing on end was what Behan was mumbling as he shuffled down the alley. He kept uttering Josie, over and over again, hence the hotel visit.

"Sweet Jesus." Angel hissed. He turned to Alex and Spike. "I'll take the zombie, you two get his companions."

It turned out it was easier said then done. The narrow alley hindered their movement; there were just too many people in one small space. Twice Alex stepped back and bumped into Spike, and he kept stepping on her foot as they fought side-by-side.

Angel had other problems. Behan's body and mind were seriously deteriorating. He didn't seem to notice his companions were engaged in battle, nor was he very aware of his surroundings. His goal was fixed as he continued on course calling for Josie with every step his took. Whenever Angel managed to grab hold of Behan another part of his body would break off, leaving him holding the rotting flesh in his hands. Finally, fed up and grossed out, Angel reached out, placed one hand on his jaw and the other on the back of his head and snapped his neck. Unfortunately, Behan's head came off as well.

Finally, John Behan's suffering was over.

"Oh, yuck." He quickly wiped his hands on his pants before turning to see how Alex and Spike were making out. He was just in time to see Alex stab the last vampire and step back quickly away from the dust.

She turned to look at him and then noticed Behan's broken body on the ground. "Gee, Angel. Did you have to take his head off?"

"I didn't take it off. It just came off, along with other… parts. He wouldn't have lasted much more, Alex. I seriously doubt he would have been able to cover himself before sunrise."

She gestured toward his broken body. "Well, we can't just leave him there. I should take him to Father Martin for rites and a proper burial. Do either of you have a hefty bag in your pocket?"

"That's not funny, love." Spike scolded.

"I'll take him to Father Martin. You go do the protection spell for Holliday's room, since neither of us can do that. Spike can head back to the hotel with the map."

"Fine." She agreed. "If Doc shows up before I get back can you make up some excuse? I'll be there as soon as I can."

* * *

Alex was a short distance away from Doc's room when she saw a man who was clearly not Doc, walk out of his room and on to the balcony. She quickened her steps. The man walked to the edge of the balcony and casually looked around before he jumped to the ground below. Alex began to run. As she gained on him she reached under her jacket and withdrew three throwing darts.

Malachi heard her advance, glanced back over his shoulder at her approaching form and broke into a fast run. He felt a dart sail by his ear. The second dart pierced the back of his arm sending excruciating pain throughout his body. He stumbled and fell forward but was able to break his fall with his hands. The third dart sailed over his head and would have struck him cleanly in the back and through his heart if he hadn't stumbled. He pushed hard against the dirt to an upright position and continued to run.

Alex reached back under her jacket again and pulled free her 9mm handgun. She stopped running, flipped off the safety, took aim, fired and missed. She shot several more rounds at Malachi's departing form and missed each time.

"Bloody hell." She hissed.

Shouts of alarm from behind her told her that Wyatt and others would soon be upon her, but before she could make a run for it, a shout from her left startled her to the roots of her soul. Doc was standing by the horse corral just several yards away. Why he was standing there and not in the Oriental playing poker puzzled her. It seemed she couldn't do anything right lately.

"Ah, bloody hell." She cursed again. She started to run in the direction Malachi fled, hoping Doc wouldn't give chase or try to shoot her.

As a matter of fact, Doc Holliday had pulled his gun, and was prepared to fire when he remembered Wyatt's theory. If this was Alex, the last thing he wanted to do was shoot her. He cursed under his breath once before he called her name.

The figure seemed to stumble slightly before it turned to look back at him. Under the pale moonlight, Doc saw one long blonde stream of hair escape from under the dark hood right before the figure disappeared into a shadowy alleyway.

"I'll be God damned." He said.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading. Don't forget to leave me a review.**


	35. Painted Portrait

**Chapter 34 – Painted Portrait **

Wyatt and Morgan arrived within seconds. Half the saloon had stepped outside to see what the ruckus was about. They found Doc standing in the middle of the street with his gun drawn as he looked toward a vacant alleyway.

"Doc, what happened?" Wyatt asked as he scanned the streets for any signs of trouble.

Doc was a struggling to tear his eyes away from the direction the mysterious figure disappeared. "It appears we've had a visitation from our enigmatic apparition."

"Was it…?" Wyatt started to ask.

"Yes, Wyatt, I believe it was." Doc finished.

"What did you see, Doc?" Wyatt asked in a serious voice.

"I saw the figure in black pull a gun from under his cloak, a gun like I've never seen before, and then I watched him fire several times at a man who was running down that street in that direction." He indicated the direction Malachi had fled.

"Did you shoot at either one?" Morgan asked.

"No, Morgan, I didn't. I called her name instead, and when she turned to look back at me I saw a lock of her blonde hair."

"Did you see her face?" Wyatt asked again.

Doc shook his head. "Just her hair."

"That's not conclusive evidence, Doc."

"You're right, Wyatt. But I believe in my heart it was Alex."

"What's all the excitement?" The three lawmen turned to find Alex's cousin, Angel, looking eagerly around. .

"Nothing much, just a disagreement between two men. One let off a couple of rounds at the other. Happens all the time." Wyatt quickly lied. He looked the other man over carefully and then asked, "Where are Alex and your cousin William?"

"Back at the hotel having a late dinner."

Surprised by Angel's answer Wyatt narrowed his eyes while he continued to press for answers. "Really? You didn't want to join them?"

Angel shoved his hands in the front pocket of his pants and replied dryly. "I already ate." Leveling an unfriendly eye at Doc he confessed, "Actually, I wanted to speak to Mr. Holliday privately, if I could?"

"Regarding?" Doc asked warily

"I was hoping you and I could continue our discussion regarding your relationship with my cousin." Angel replied sharply.

"Why don't you ask her?" Doc pushed.

"I'm asking you."

Doc sighed loudly. Fighting with Alex's relations is not what he wanted to do, especially tonight. "Are you certain Alex is at your hotel in the company of your other cousin?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Why do you ask?" Angel replied, feigning confusion at the nature of the inquiry.

"No particular reason, just out of concern." He studied the other man for a moment, trying to decide if he had the strength to talk reasonably tonight. "I'm sorry Mr. Montgomery, my manners are a bit off this evening. Let me get my coat and hat and then we can have a drink in my room where you can tell me what is on your mind."

Doc bid Morgan and Wyatt good night and then showed Angel to his room. He unlocked the door and walked to the nearest oil lamp. After he had it lit the brief light it gave revealed a room in shambles.

"What the hell…" Doc began. He quickly lit a second and then third lamp.

The bed covers and mattress had been sliced to ribbons. Feathers from the various pillows covered every square inch of the room. His chair in which he had spent many hours comfortably seated was upended and slashed as well.

"It appears I'm not the only person upset with you tonight Mr. Holliday." Angel said dryly as he stood in the middle of the room surveying the mess.

Doc ignored his comment and looked over towards his closet. The door was ajar and a fresh bout of anger surged through him. He moved to investigate, afraid of what he might find there. Relief flooded through him when he saw his wardrobe in tacked. It would have cost him a small fortune to replace all of his clothes. When he closed the door he saw something he hadn't noticed before. It was a photograph pinned to the outside of the closet door with a small penknife. Hesitantly, Doc reached up and pulled the knife free.

The photograph was unlike any portrait he had ever seen before. Even in the dim light of the room he could clearly see the figures in the picture were in color, the composition so vivid that the man and woman within appeared to be alive, but there was something about the subjects he couldn't put his finger on. He moved closer to a lamp to get a better view and got the shock of his life. It was a photo of Alexis sitting on a man's lap. They were both seated on a child's wooden swing that hung from a tree and appeared to be very happy in each other's company.

Doc could see it was high summer in the photo evident by the leaves on the tree and the lush green grass beneath the swing. Their clothing was odd. He had never seen Alex dressed this way. She wore what appeared to be undergarments made of dungaree material that was cut up to her thigh, leaving her long legs bare and exposed. Her top was a sleeveless purple shirt and her hair hung in loose waves down her back. Judging from her gleeful expression, she appeared to be laughing hard, with her head slightly tipped back, mouth opened wide as she laughed revealing her perfect white teeth. Her feet were bare, toes beautifully manicured and polished pink. Around her left ankle was a thin gold chain. One hand extended behind the man's back, clutching the rope on the opposite side of his body. Her free was draped across his chest and rested on his shoulder, either for support or for affection Doc couldn't tell, but that wrist was also entwined with several gold bracelets, and on her hand was a gold band and large diamond ring.

The man with her was not familiar, but he was striking in appearance; his physique muscular and well defined. He started directly at the camera, giving Doc a clear view of his smiling face, long-dark hair, and piercing blue eyes. The man held the ropes with both hands, obviously confident of his ability to catch Alex should she slip and fall from his lap. His dress appeared less strange than Alex's although it was extremely casual consisting of dungarees and a green short-sleeved shirt. On his left hand was a simple gold band.

Doc continued to stare at the strange picture unable to make sense of what he saw. He felt Angel hovering behind him and was ready to turn and ask the other man for an explanation when his eye saw something in the photo he had not noticed before. This man sported a small circular tattoo on the inside of either arm, positioned a few inches above his wrist, although the symbol was too small to distinguish the design.

Doc had seen men with tattoos before. In general he never approved of the custom. To him it seemed dirty to mark one's body in that manner, but what upset him more then he could admit was the identical marking clearly seen on Alex's arm as she clutched the rope.

"What is it?" He heard Angel ask.

Doc turned to hand Angel the picture and in a calm-smooth voice that carefully hid his building anxiety remarked, "I was hoping you could tell me, Mr. Montgomery?"

Angel took the picture from Doc's hand and realized immediately why the room had been vandalized. The dentist had been very fortunate to be at the Oriental when Malachi had paid his visit. The photo was clearly left behind to let Alex know Malachi intended to come back and finish the job. Obviously, it was time Doc Holliday changed living quarters.

"Well?" Doc insisted, his patience quickly approaching the boiling point.

"It's a photograph." Angel replied simply.

Doc issued a grunt of impatience. "I know it's a photograph, and before you play coy about the identity of the subjects, allow me to enlighten you. It's a photograph of Alex and a man that I've never seen before." He took a deep breath and continued his rant in a somewhat louder voice. "What I don't know is how it came to be in my room, why it was pinned to my closet door and if the gentlemen in the photo had anything to do with the destruction of my room?"

Angel took in the other man's agitated state and realized Alex had painted herself in a corner. Doc Holliday was a no nonsense kind of guy and his patience was quickly running out. Obviously, it was time to give the man some kind of sensible answer. "The man is someone who was, at one time, acquainted with my cousin, Mr. Holliday. That relationship has ended and Alex has worked very hard to put it behind her. Considering the state of your present room and the fact that your residence is has been discovered, I strongly suggest you pack up your belongings and move to the Grande Hotel." As he finished Angel tried to discreetly slip the photo in his jacket pocket, but Doc reached out his hand and silently demanded it back.

"I don't run from trouble, Mr. Montgomery. If this person wishes to _discuss_ my relationship with Alex then I will welcome the opportunity."

"I admire your fortitude, but let me point out that Alex will be staying at the hotel with me and under no conditions will I allow her enter this boarding house after what happened here tonight. So, I'll ask you again to change living quarters."

Doc narrowed his eyes at his tall, dark opponent. He knew there would be no compromises with Angel Montgomery. "I see. Well, since you put it that way, Mr. Montgomery, I will most certainly do as you suggested." He placed the photo in his vest pocket and then pulled his travel bags from the closet.

Relieved, Angel gave Doc a semi warm smile. "Alex will certain be glad."

"Somehow, I question that reality." Doc shot back as he tossed several sets of clothing, boots and his spare gun in the bag. He paused from his task when he opened the second bag. In it were the remains of his dental equipment and some literature from school. Alex had questioned the whereabouts of his tools of trade, and now he wondered why he hadn't told her he still had them and kept them in top condition and safely stored in his closet just in case he ever felt well enough to hang his shingle again.

"Trust me, she'll be glad." Angel mumbled, thinking Alex will be relieved to have Doc under the same roof as Wyatt.

Doc walked over to his dresser and removed a couple sets of undergarments, several handkerchiefs, the silver music box, and secretly, the bottle of laudanum, which he rapped carefully in his clothing. The music box he placed in his coat pocket. He looked over at Angel and realized it was time he cleared the air. "About my relationship with your cousin, Mr. Montgomery. I know very little about Alex and her life before we met, but that is of little consequence. I don't need to know more."

Doc paused in his speech to let the other man know the seriousness of his talk, but mostly he needed to calm the racing pulse of his heart. "I love Alex and want to marry her. Since you and your cousin William are the only members of her family I've met, I'm asking for your approval."

Angel couldn't have been more surprised by Doc's intentions. "Does Alex know how you feel?"

"Most likely she does not. Since your arrival we haven't spoken about the future, even though I wanted to. Alex has been preparing me for her imminent departure. I've asked her to stay in Tombstone a little longer. I even offered to take her back home whenever she wanted to leave, but for some reason she has continuously rejected me. I want her to stay and she keeps telling me she can't, although she won't explain why. Do you know why? Does it have anything to do with that man in the photograph?"

Angel paused as he considered how to best answer the gambler's questions. The questions he was asking were personal ones regarding Alex. As her friend, Angel was hesitant to speak about her private life even if the answers he would give to Holliday would be vague ones. "The situation is complicated. I'm not sure I'm the one to explain it. I don't think Alex would want me to. Yes, in one aspect she is considering the consequences involving the guy in the photo. But there is more to it, and truthfully, she shouldn't be revealing this information to anyone."

"Apparently, talking in riddles runs in your family." Doc replied sarcastically while snapping his luggage closed.

"I'm sorry, but that's all I can say."

Doc had enough double talk. "Nonsense. Pure Yankee nonsense." He said loudly and directly to Angel's face.

The insult had no outward effect. Angel simply set his jaw and blinked. When Doc saw he would not be able to provoke the other man into a quarrel he grabbed his two travel bags and marched to the door.

"What about the rest of your things?" Angel asked.

"I'll have them sent over to the Grande." Doc called over his shoulder as he continued down the hallway.

"You're pretty trusting to allow just anyone to handle your belongings." Angel declared in a dry voice as he followed a leisurely pace behind.

The statement stopped Doc in his tracks, rounding sharply he freely vented his anger. "Believe it or not, Mr. Montgomery, most people don't question my requests nor are the foolish enough to try to underhand me. In my past, one or two unfortunate souls had thought to do so, but they were sorely mistaken and now spend there days as worm food. Can I make myself any plainer?"

"Nope. That pretty much sums things up for me." Angel offered up a small smile and motioned for Doc to continue walking.

They paused to speak to Mr. Fly about the vandalism. Doc offered to help pay for the damaged bedding and chair, which Mr. Fly was very grateful to hear but he still seemed to be nervous about provoking the gambler's anger.

"Mr. Holliday, please believe me," he stuttered, eyes wide with unease, "I didn't let a soul into your room."

"A fact I do not question, Mr. Fly. The porch doors were open and obviously whoever is responsible entered from there. Please have your son pack the rest of my things and send them over to the Grande. I am taking up residence there not because I don't have faith in your security but because I wish to spend more of my free time with Ms. Montgomery and her family who are also residing at the hotel. You may send my bill there."

* * *

"Talk about your close call." Angel groaned as he leaned back against the closed hotel room door, safe for the moment from Holliday's prying questions. He had left Doc to check in and rushed to his room to speak to Alex before her lover began to bang on the door.

"I'm sorry." Alex pleaded with upturned palms. "There was nothing I could do but run."

She was sitting on small cushioned chair wearing a deep blue skirt and white blouse with matching blue trim. Her hair was once again swept up off her neck in a beguiling style. The picture she presented was of a nineteen-century woman, one of simple refinement with a dash of modesty thrown in. Angel almost laughed at the contrasting realities Alex could so easily display.

Across from her was Spike seated in a matching chair. On the table between them was a half-empty bottle of wine and two glasses. Anger that had been partially contained since his confrontation with Holliday now threatened to break free. _I'm out busting my ass while these two are relaxing over a bottle of wine,_ he thought, but before he could vent his frustration Alex caught him off guard by attacking first.

"What took you so long to get here?" She continued. "I figured I'd have two Earps and one very pissed dentist tailing right behind me. Shoot, I've never changed my clothes so fast in my life. I didn't even wait for Spike to turn around before I started to strip."

"Spike saw you naked?" Angel asked her directly as he made his way across the room. Then to Spike he added, "Why do you get all the fun?"

"Don't worry mate, the girl dressed too fast for me to see much of anything. But." he added with a devilish gleam, "what I did see was very promising."

Alex reached over and smacked him on the arm.

"I'm glad you two have been having fun yucking it up while I've been busy covering your butt, Alex. You should be very thankful I was able to get back from the church as fast as I did. Not only were you seen by Holliday, but he recognized you."

"What!" She screeched. "Impossible, my hood was up."

"Your hood might have been up, but apparently your hair was down and poking out. All he saw was your blonde hair but it was enough to lay a dubious foundation. I told them you were both here at the hotel having a late dinner. I hope it was enough of a lie to put them off your trail, but don't bet on it. Wyatt suspects something and Holliday is eagerly looking for answers. He'll believe whatever Wyatt tells him. Don't you ever forget that."

"Bloody hell." She cursed loudly.

"There's more…" He said roughly, but before he continued he picked up Spike's glass of wine and drained the contents in one swallow. "Malachi was in Doc's room. Your little liaison has become exposed and a hazard to your lover's health, so to speak."

Her faced visibly paled. "Oh, God, not again. What happened?"

He held up his hand in an effort to keep her calm. "Nothing much. Holliday must have been at the Oriental when Malachi came calling. He tore the bedding and some pillows. He also left your lover a memento. It was a color photo of Malachi and you, which must have been taken some time ago, and he left it pinned to Holliday's closet door."

She buried her face in her hands, and shook her head back and forth. Calmly, Spike filled her glass again and then he refilled his own. He quickly emptied half of it before Angel could drink this glass as well.

Angel scowled darkly at Spike before he turned to Alex and asked, "What about Malachi? Didn't you get a good shot at him?"

"Yes I did." She retaliated, "Even hit him once with a dart, but unfortunately, it was in the arm. It must have hurt like hell because he almost fell. If he hadn't stumbled this would be all over now. My last dart sailed over his back."

"And the gun shots?"

"I missed. Too wound up I guess."

"You're letting your emotions get in the way." Angel scolded.

I know, I know, don't remind me. Where's Doc now?" She asked before she took a deep drink from her glass.

"I persuaded him to change hotels. He's downstairs checking in."

"How did you explain the photo, mate?" Spike asked.

Angel sat on the edge of the sofa and let out a large sigh. "I told him the truth, but in very vague terms. I simply said the man in the photo was once aquatinted with you but the affair was over and you were trying to put it behind you."

"Aptly put." Spike offered.

Gratitude and relief flooded her face. "Have I told you lately how much I love you, Angel?"

He shook off her affection with a wave of his hand. "Save it," he snapped, "until we get back home. I have more to tell you. Holliday has that photo in his vest pocket. When he comes to get you Alex, you have to get that photo back. Understand?"

She nodded her head. "Malachi was going to kill Doc tonight wasn't he?"

"Absolutely." Angel replied firmly.

* * *

Doc managed to procure two adjoining rooms, one for him and one for Alex. He could tell Angel wasn't happy about the arrangement, but since the affair was Alex's business he couldn't say very much.

The rooms were large, airy and tastefully decorated in hues of dark blue, rich browns with maroon accents. There was no balcony for which Doc was very grateful, but he did request a room with a small dinette set. Hopefully, Alex and he could spend some quiet time dinning together rather than arguing.

He strolled over the ample space the room contained to open the connecting doors between his room and Alex's. Both rooms were similarly decorated and both contained equally large beds.

He walked to the entrance of Alex's room and made sure it was locked, and then he pocketed the key. He also took the key that would lock the doors between their rooms. Once he had her safely stowed away he could finish making his arrangements for their trip east. There would be no more foolishness, and no more denials. He had his fill.

With silent determination he made his way to Angel's room to collect what belonged to him.

* * *

"Bloody hell." Alexis muttered under her breath. She should have secured Doc's room first. She wouldn't be in this mess if she had.

"You shouldn't curse, Alex. Your future husband might not like it." Angel snapped sarcastically. He figured now was as good a time as any to let her know about Doc's latest proclamation.

"My what?" She asked with surprise.

"He wants to marry you. Even asked me for my blessing tonight."

"He asked for your blessing?" You're kidding me?

"Unfortunately, I'm not."

"Congratulations, love. Let me be the first to wish you health and happiness." Spike tapped Alex's glass with his own.

"That's so not funny, William." She replied dryly.

He frowned darkly at her and she smiled in returned. Using his Christian name had achieved the effect she desired.

"How did you answer?" She asked Angel.

"Well, what I thought about saying and what I said were two different things. For just a minute, I seriously considered telling him he could have you just to get you out of my hair."

She scoffed and turned her back on him before taking another sip from her glass. "But somehow I managed to get away without answering." She turned back around and blinked with relief. "But let me warn you Alex, the man is determined." Angel continued before she could look too relieved. "Spike where did you hide the survey map?"

"In the dresser drawer until we can get a look at it."

"Good. At least something went according to plan tonight. Alex, you and I need to mark every spot on those maps where you sterilized a mine, and every spot where you found evidence of activity. We'll see if we can narrow down our search or perhaps find a pattern to Malachi's movements."

Alex nodded her head in agreement. "I'll have to distract Doc first. He'll want to question me about that photo and his room."

There was a sharp knock on the door and all heads turned to look in that direction.

"Speak of the devil." Spike sang as he filled his glass again with the remains of the bottle. "I hope he brought us some more wine."

Alex rose to answer the door. At first glance, Doc didn't appear to be that angry. She held the door open for him to enter and as he did he nodded ever so slightly in her direction before walking to stand in the center of the room. In his hand he held a bottle of wine. "I thought we might toast the evening." He mocked.

"I heard what happened, Doc. I'm sorry your peace was disturbed." Alex said softly, laying a comforting hand on his arm.

"As you should be, Alexis." When he turned to give her his full attention she saw that his eyes baked with hidden anger. "Particularly, if you had any knowledge of your lover's agenda"

"The answer to your obscene question is no." She crossed her arms over her chest and raised one mocking brow in his direction. "Is there anything else you would like to get off your chest before you fully piss me off? I'm giving you a once in a lifetime chance." Her voice was low and steady.

"Bad move, mate." Spike coached to Doc.

Doc was not the least bit intimidated by Alex's anger. Actually, the more hostile she became gave him a good excuse to retaliate with equal ferocity. "I feel I'm owed an explanation, damn it! I want it now, Alex! I'm not fooling around anymore!"

"And I believe you should adopt a less marital tone, John."

He laughed openly at her. "Do you darlin? Well, I don't. Actually, I plan on legalizing my marital tone, or didn't your cousin inform you of my intentions."

"I'm not marrying you, or anyone else for that matter! I've had enough of marriage, and the heartache that goes with it." She screamed at him.

"Ok, that's enough." Angel stepped in and lightly placed his hand on Doc's shoulder, but Doc would not be pacified. He slapped the offending hand away and took a menacing step toward Alex.

"Who is he?" He demanded.

"He is a ghost from my past, John, and nothing more."

"Your ghost just made rags of my bedding." He replied in a harsh, clipped voice.

Alex swallowed past the visual image that suddenly appeared in her mind of his slashed and torn bed splattered with his blood. "I know. It won't happen again, I promise." She responded sincerely and in a much calmer voice.

He stared at her for a moment, partly mesmerized by the truth he saw in her eyes, but he was a man of very little faith. What he wanted now were facts, not empty-headed beliefs. "How do you know Alex? What makes you so sure?"

She turned her head away from him to cover her mouth so the scream building in her throat wouldn't escape.

Believing she was once again trying to avoid giving him an answer his temper broke free. Reaching out with one hand he grabbed her upper arm and jerked her around to face him. "For Christ's sake, tell me something, anything." He shouted. "I don't care if you lie to me, damn it! Just make it believable. Anything is better then not understanding why."

Over Doc's shoulder, Alex saw Angel move to separate Doc from his hold on her arm, but with a glance she stopped him. "I'm fine." She whispered. Then she turned back to Doc. She arched her brow at him and then he realized he was still clutching her arm. He released her, reached into his vest pocket for the photo and shoved it in her face.

"He left me this, pinned to my closet door. Can you explain it?" Before she could answer he continued his rant. "What manner of photograph is this Alex? I've never seen a painted portrait like this before."

Slowly, she took the picture from his hand and looked down at it. Without thinking, she lightly skimmed one finger across the surface. _Malachi, how did we ever get to be so far apart?_

The photo had been taken at his brother's estate in Scotland. They had spent their last vacation visiting his family before returning to the field. It had been six glorious weeks of peace and happiness for both of them. He had showed her every night how much he loved her until she was exhausted from sexual bliss. Later, after fate had stolen her future, she would think of those nights they had spent coupling, and wondered if she hadn't taken precautions would a child have been conceived. Tormenting thoughts that would haunt her until the end of her days.

Breathing deeply to push past the painful memories, she raised her eyes to met Doc's. "Have you more wine in your room?"

Her question threw him. He blinked several times with confusion before answering. "Yes, several. Why do you ask?"

She reached for the bottle he still held in his hand and tossed it to Spike who caught it easily. "Because I want a drink." She took his hand and led him to the door. "Don't wait up boys." She called over her shoulder to Angel and Spike. "I'm going to be busy the rest of the night."

"Alex wait." Angel walked towards her. "Don't do this, please."

She turned back around and gave him an encrypted look. "The man deserves an explanation, Angel. I'm going to give him what he wants." But as she turned to follow Doc out the door she causally let the photo slip from her fingers and fall to the carpeted floor.


	36. Truth or Consequences

**Chapter 35 – Truth or Consequences **

Once they had entered Doc's room he started in on her. "You back out on me now Alex and I swear to God I'll beat the blessed daylights out of you." Kate would have cowered from the tone of his voice, but not Alex. She laughed at him.

"That's something I would like to see you try to do." She chucked again as she looked about the room. "Were your clothes damaged as well as your bedding?" She asked as she moved to look in the bags he had left sitting on the bed.

He brushed his hand against his jacket thankful that he had placed the music box and ring in his jacket pocket for safety. "No." He replied sharply. "Alex, I refuse to be distracted. You better start talking." Hurt that she had so easily brushed off his threat, he tried to intimidate her by towering over her smaller form, but this tactic didn't seem to be working either. She was ignoring him as she snooped in his bags and began to remove his jackets and pants.

"Not until you pour me a drink." She replied while hanging his suits in the closet.

Exasperated by her nonchalant behavior, he walked to the liquor cabinet and poured two generous glasses of brandy. With a glass in each hand he turned to find her hovering over his second travel bag – the bag that contained his dental equipment.

She removed one of his books and the travel dental kit he had customized with his own hands. "I see I'm not the only one with secrets." The tone of her voice was bitter and sarcastic

He walked toward her and handed her a brandy. "My profession has never been a secret." He set down his glass on the bedside table before he replaced the items she removed.

"Really? I wasn't aware a smoky saloon was the idea place to practice dentistry." Her tone was more then sarcastic, it rang of truth, which was worse then her mockery.

"If you're trying to pick a fight you're on the correct path." He snapped.

"You started it." She replied sweetly as she sipped her drink.

"Are we going to talk or fight like alley cats?"

"What's the difference?" She asked with one brow raised.

"Alex I swear…"

She looked hard at him for a moment, and then she turned, walked toward a small settee with matching chairs and sat down. "What do you want to know, John?"

"Everything." He said simply.

She laughed at him again and motioned for him to sit down. "Let's start with one question at a time."

Grabbing his drink, he took the seat across from her and suddenly found his mouth was as dry as cotton. He took a small sip of his brandy to brace his nerves. Then he reached into his jacket, removed the music box and gave the key a few twists to set the gears in motion. "Will you marry me, Alex?" He held his breath as he opened the lid, letting Fur Elise loose into the air as he presented the box to her.

His first question took her breath away, but the exquisite music box and the enclosed ring inside snatched away her reason. She tried to form an answer as she listened to Beethoven play, but the only sound she could make was a small squeak. She nervously cleared her throat as she glanced at the ring and then back to the eager look on his face. "That's not fair, John."

"Sometimes, Alex, I don't play fair." He set the music box down on the table between them and then he held the ring out for her to take. "Say you'll be my wife. Marry me."

Against her better judgment she took the ring from him and held it in the palm of her hand. She hadn't realized she was crying until her tears splashed across the gold and emerald setting making it glisten even more. "Why are you doing this to me?" She sobbed as she looked to him for an answer.

He paused at her reaction to his proposal. _Oh, God, just like Mattie,_ he thought. He had expected an argument from her, even anger, but not tears. Briefly, he wondered why the two women he proposed to ended up crying instead of showing him the typical feminine squeal of delight followed by an accepting kiss he had read about in romance books. But he was determined not to let her tears distract him.

"Don't you like it? If you would prefer another ring we'll exchange it."

She vigorously shook her head as she pulled her eyes away from the ring to be confronted once more by his enthusiastic expression. "It's exactly the kind of ring I have always wanted. The music box and ring are lovely, John. Truly, I could never have imagined a more romantic proposal." She looked away from his face to focus on the ring once more. With one manicured finger she delicately reached out to slowly stroke the gold band.

Waiting for her to reply was growing more painful by the second. With each passing moment he could feel her refusal coming closer and closer. Desperate to clasp what remaining chance he had to keep her, he made one last plea. "I want you Alex. Stay with me."

He heard her take a deep breath, sniff loudly as she straightened her spine and lifted her head. "I'm sorry. My answer is no." Then she held out her palm for him to take back the ring.

Alex watched her rejection strike him as if she had physically hit him with her hand. He displayed a substantial degree of pain and anger before he jumped up from his chair and turned his back to her. She remained seated as she waited from him to compose his emotions.

She wanted to comfort him; to give him some peace of mind by revealing to him what was hidden in her heart, but she couldn't. Any commitment to this relationship was impossible. After her mission she would have to return home. It was not up to her to stay behind. It was very clearly forbidden in the rules and regulations she had been trained to know by heart. But even if the Guardian rules didn't exist there was still a no way she could abandon her world to live in his. There was no doubt in her mind she loved Doc. She had, however, noticed the well-chosen words of his proposal. _I want you. Stay with me_. Want did not equate to love. Obviously, Doc didn't feel the same way about her as she did for him and she refused to stay with a man who only wanted her.

To her, wanting something or someone was a need. Like the need for rest or the need for food, once the need was fulfilled, one didn't want any longer. Love was eternal and boundless. When there was love between a man and woman, it had no beginning and no end, leaving you always in need of more. She had witness such a relationship first hand by observing her parents. When she had agreed to marry Malachi she had also been blessed with love in her marriage.

If only Doc loved her as she loved him, she might have considered taking a chance by breaking the rules to begin a new life as his wife.

If…

Such a small word with a tremendously painful impact.

Doc had tried to regain control over his mounting anger but failed. He spun around to scowl at her, full of fury at her blunt refusal. "Why?"

She tried hard to disconnect herself from his pain, but the stabbing ache in her own heart made it extremely difficult to ignore. She swallowed the turbulent lump of emotion that was stuck in her throat and pushed herself to ignore her feelings. "We're going to have to move this process along or we'll be here all night. Do you have any other questions or not?" She looked at him for a moment more as if giving him time to decide if he did indeed have more questions to pose before she sharply looked away.

The music box had depleted its energy and was now sadly pinging and plucking Fur Elise to a slow death. He watched her place the ring carefully back into its velvet bed before closing the lid on Beethoven as well as any future he had hoped to have with her.

"This is so easy for you, isn't it? Have you no sentiment for me at all?" He was so angry and hurt he felt the warmth of fresh tears spring to his eyes.

"On the contrary, I have a great deal of feeling for you, John. If I didn't, I wouldn't be here now." She replied in a voice that dripped with feigned composure.

The quick manner in which she recovered her poise had taken him by complete surprise, leaving him struggling to interpret her behavior. Had he completely misunderstood her emotional involvement or was she playing some coy feminine game? Still, it was useless for him to try to figure things out now, his anger would only continue to interfere with his reasoning until he calmed down.

"Fine, have it your way." He huffed as he sat back down in the chair. She immediately tried to pass him the music box, but he pushed her hand away, and in a voice that seemed broken with sorrow he added, "Keep it for awhile, Alexis. We can come back to that question later."

She looked confused as she searched his face. For just a moment he thought saw a flash of regret in her eyes before she looked away and down at the silver box she held in her hand. With a shaky hand he reached for his brandy and emptied half the glass down his throat. A chemically induced feeling of warmth and control began to seep into his chest. Finally, he felt strong enough to continue the evening's program. He looked once more at Alex and saw she was still staring at the music box she held in her hand and was slowly caressing the two doves with one finger. _Why Alex_, he wondered. _What is the real reason behind your motives?_

"The man in the portrait, who is he?" He abruptly asked to snap her out of her reverie and to also vent some more of his anger at her. He looked down at her hands expecting to find her still holding the photograph. "Where is it?"

"The photo?" She asked with mocked innocence. "Oh, I guess I dropped it back in Angel's room." Her sickening sweet smile was back. "Sometimes, I don't play fair either."

He gave her a black look. "Just answer the fucking question."

"The man in the photograph was my husband. The picture was taken at his brother's estate in Scotland during our last vacation together. Two months later he was killed."

It was the last explanation he ever expected to hear. He had seriously thought it was a portrait of a jealous lover. Perhaps someone she was running away from who had now tracked her to Tombstone. "Then he wasn't the man who destroyed my room and left that photo pinned to the closet door?"

She scoffed at him. "What do you think?"

"Then why didn't your cousin tell me that?"

"Angel knows I get annoyed if he tries to speak for me. Considering the circumstances, I guess he felt this information would be better received if it came from me."

"Well… then who vandalized my room?"

"Perhaps it was Kate. Did that thought ever occur to you?"

Her quick mind surprised him. Like a professional strategist, she was sidestepping each and every maneuver he took. "No, I didn't." He tried to make a quick recovery. "Do you have an ex-lover in town? Is that why you came to Tombstone?"

"Yes." She said simply.

"Then he seems the most likely suspect. Why do you think he didn't break into my room?"

"I didn't say that. I simply pointed out that we both have ex-lovers who have motive and means to destroy your things."

Again she out maneuvered him. _Thank God she doesn't play poker, or I'd be losing my shirt right about now._ Perhaps it was time to change topics. "I won a horse in a poker game tonight Alex. As I was examining my new mare, I saw the Figure in Black just outside Fly's boarding house. Do you know anything about him?"

"What are you suggesting, Doc? That I dress in dark clothing and run around town rescuing people?"

"Do you?"

"Don't be absurd." She snapped. _Liar, liar, pants on fire._

He studied her at length before he was satisfied with her answer. He looked away and down toward his hands. "Will you rethink my proposal?"

"John, I…."

He interrupted her before her rebuff could cut him to the quick. "Just think about it. That's all I'm asking."

This was one promise she could keep. Think about his proposal? She doubted she would be able to think about anything else. "All right, John. I'll think about it."

"Thank you." For the first time that evening his smile contained a small measure of warmth. "Please say you'll stay in town while you think it over?"

Slowly she shook her head. "I will have to leave when Angel and William do. My time here in town is entirely up to them."

"Why don't you stay behind then? I'll take you home later. Or, let me come with you when you leave."

"That's not possible."

"Why?" He begged. She looked away, refusing to meet his eyes. "Explain it to me, Alex." He asked so softly she barely heard him.

"I can't."

He got up from his chair and sat next to her on the small sofa as he took her hand in his and asked again. "I need to know."

Her eyes searched his face as she considered how best to answer his questions. "John, I'm not supposed to be here. The decision is not up to me. When the time comes, I must leave to correct the imbalance."

"What does that mean? What imbalance?"

She just shook her head and looked away from him. "That's all I can tell you. I'm sorry."

Frustrated and confused by her riddle he looked down at their hands entwined together. They looked well together, like a matched set. They both had long-shapely fingers and manicured nails. His mother had always told him his long fingers were made to strike each difficult piano key with ease and grace, and he wondered briefly if Alex played as he did.

There was so much he didn't know about her. The more he became aware of the gap, the more he wanted to discover all her hidden secrets, and as each day passed he was more aware of what little time remained for them to be together. What would he do after she was gone?

He caressed her hand gently and rubbed his thumb over each and every callus he found. He was enjoying this quiet moment with her, neither fighting nor speaking; just sitting in silence had a calming affect on his shattered nerves. She seemed to be enjoying the moment as well. He could visibly see her body relax with each caress of his hand.

Without thinking, he began to count the number of calluses his thumb traced on her palm and fingers. When he reached the sixth raised patch of skin a cold shiver passed through him. This was not the first time he had felt the rough skin on her palm. That night in the Oriental, when she had first refused him, was when he originally noticed the calluses, but he had been too drunk for the fact to register at the time.

Slowly, he turned her palm over, fully aware she was anxiously watching what he was doing. The evidence he saw clearly confirmed his suspicions. Rough patches on the palm of her hand, evidence of months or perhaps years of use holding heavy pots and pans, a broom, a shovel or … a sword. When she tried to withdraw her hand he increased his hold. With his free hand he unbuttoned the cuff of her long sleeve. This time she violently tried to free her wrist. But John only squeezed harder.

"What are you doing?" She gasped as she set the music box to one side in order to fight him better. His grip on her wrist increased to the point where she felt the bones grind against one another. She gasped again as the pain he was inflicting urged her to cry out.

"I want to look at your arm, and if I have to break your wrist to do so I will. So, I suggest you hold still." He slid the white cloth of her sleeve upward to reveal the dark circular tattoo hidden underneath. The design was a wreath of thorns entwined by a vine of roses and in the center was a cross.

His head jerked up. "Explain this Alex?" He demanded.

His tone of voice and threat to break her wrist had pushed her over the edge. "It's a tattoo." She spit with venom.

"I'm aware it's a tattoo." He replied with a tightly controlled voice. "Why do you have it? Wait…let me rephrase that, why do you and your late husband have matching tattoos?"

"That is none of your damn business! Now, let go of my arm, or pay the consequences!"

She spoke with such malice a small stirring of fear began to awaken in his chest. Reluctantly, he released her. "Do you have one on the other arm as well?"

She was immediately off the sofa and storming towards the door. Instead of answering, she called over her shoulder, "Goodnight John."

Alex hadn't felt this angry since Malachi's death. If she stayed another moment she would do or say something she would regret later, but before she could reach the doorknob he was on her.

Doc physically picked her up off her feet, turned her around and slammed her back against the door with tremendous force. His assault momentarily dazed her. She found she was pinned. His hands gripped like two clamps under her arms. His thumbs dug painfully into the frontal muscles of her chest, effectively neutralizing her arms. When she looked up at his face she could see he was in a full rage.

She could still knee him hard between the legs, which would end this battle in a second. For a moment she considered doing just that, but deep down inside she didn't want to hurt him, physically anyway. Emotionally, the woman in her wanted to strike him fatally through the heart. "What are you going to do now John, beat me as well?"

Slowly, he pressed his body firmly against hers, and Alex found his anger wasn't the only thing that had become stirred by their fight. She figured he would force himself on her and had already made up her mind to be cold and unmoved by his ardor. But instead of force, his head slowly lowered and he kissed her gently and passionately. When she refused to respond, he began to tease her mouth. He flicked his tongue across her upper and lower lip several times before placing multiple tiny kisses against her mouth. Then he bit her lower lip and then sucked on it gently before dipping his tongue into her mouth to ardently seek hers.

She tried to ignore him, thinking if she remained unresponsive he would stop and leave her alone, but her mouth seemed to have a mind of its own. She met him halfway and was rewarded when he slowly rocked his hips against her groin.

He released her one arm, picked up her leg to rest it against his hip, and positioned himself against the aching flesh between her legs. She shuddered and wrapped her leg tighter around him. He rocked into her again, and again, and yet again. From far off she heard herself moan.

"Still feel like fighting?" He whispered as he continued to rub against her.

She was almost beyond answering him. Words were impossible to form but she did managed to shake her head no.

"I thought as much." He replied as he picked her up and carried her to the bed.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading. Don't forget to leave me a review. ttfn**


	37. Curiouser and Curiouser

**Chapter 36 – Curiouser and Curiouser **

The sun had just peeked over the edge of the earth when Alex took a moment to enjoy the stillness of the coming morning. Sunrises always stirred her more then sunsets. The coming morning symbolized future and hope. It was a day yet unmarred by life and its tragic events. Anything was possible. Any amount of goodness and purity could still take place.

Sunsets, she found, had the opposite affect. When she watched the setting sun she felt only sadness. Any hope she had felt at the beginning of the day was now squashed, broken, and bleeding out its final life force in shades of orange, pink and purple across the sky.

She had just finished securing John's rooms against any further interference from Malachi. For extra protection she left small piles of the herbs hidden beneath the drapes and behind the furniture near the all the bedroom doors. She turned away from the coming day to look at the naked man she left sleeping soundly in bed. She had been very lucky he had not been killed or turned. Just the thought alone was enough to send fresh tears to her eyes. Thank God Angel had managed to talk him into changing rooms.

Sleep had been short and hard coming. John had managed to keep her very distracted during most of the evening. When she woke early she found he was sleeping deeply and knew it was time she perform her protection spell. Now that her task was complete she would meet Angel and Spike to go over the survey maps. It was time to get back on track and stop fucking around, literally.

She walked over to the bed and sat on the edge. He began to stir, somehow sensing her nearness. In another moment he would be awake and ruin her plans for the day. Gently, she reached out her hand and caressed his forehead. "Sleep love, for just a little while longer." She said as she lightly brushed against his mind. His breathing changed to a deeper, slower rhythm as he drifted soundly back to sleep. She leaned in and kissed his mouth gently before she rose from the bed.

**Excerpt from Alex's Journal September 1881 (Day 17 – Early Morning)**

_After a tragedy of errors I hope I'm finally back on track. Angel and Spike arrived two days ago. Already Angel's sharp mind and determined attitude have lifted my spirits. At his request, Spike has procured a survey map of the mines in the area. We will systematically mark each mine I have sterilized to see which ones remain a hazard and to see if we can ascertain if there is a pattern to Malachi's movements. _

_Since we strongly suspect the vampires may be nesting somewhere on or near the Clanton ranch, we hope the maps will reveal possible caves or locations of mines that I am unaware of. _

_Last night was my first sighting of Malachi since my arrival to this time. He has attacked Doc again. Fortunately, he was at the Oriental when Malachi broke into his room. Mal was pissed when he found the room empty. He torn the bedding to shreds and pinned the last photo taken of us together to Doc's closet door. Another warning for me, I guess. As Malachi was leaving Doc's room I was approaching and saw him jump down from the second floor. I gave chase but he got away. _

_Doc continues to slowly uncover my truth. I should walk away from him and not look back but find I am unable to. Last night he proposed marriage. He'll never know how much his offer cut me to the deepest part of my soul. I can't help but think how quickly he will regret his desire for me when he finds out I've been lying to him the entire time.  
_

* * *

"Are you sure you remembered every mine site you sterilized?" Angel asked for the third time.

"Like I said before, since I don't see as well in the dark as you do, this is the best I can remember. I tried to search in an East to West pattern, but I might have gotten turned around once or twice."

They had been studying the map for hours. Earlier, Alex had taken the time to go back to the Oriental to retrieve the rest of her belongings. She would stay at the hotel from now on. On her way she had stopped at the butchers to get Angel and Spike something to sustain them and when she was settled back in their room she ordered room service for herself. Now that she had eaten she felt much better.

"Alex, I don't see any pattern here at all. Whatever Malachi is doing it makes no sense to me." Angel stood and stretched his back to ease the tension from leaning over the table.

"Well, we know he is turning every cowboy and outlaw he finds into vampires. How he is managing to keep them all hidden and under control is beyond me." She took another sip of her coffee as she enjoyed the hot brew and the strength it was giving her.

"What about the Clanton ranch, don't you think we should look into those rocky areas marked on the map?" Spike asked. "Could be a cave or the like that would offer them protection from the sun. If I was trying to hide from a Slayer, that would be the place I'd pick."

"It would have to be an awful big cave, but we can check it out as soon as the sunsets." Angel said without looking up from studying the map.

"Where you going, Pet?" Spike saw Alex root through her pile of clothes before she walked toward the hotel room door. She was wearing her dungarees and flannel shirt and cowhide coat. In her hand she carried her weapon bag and vest.

"I don't want to wait until the sunsets. I'll go ahead. You two can catch up later."

"You'll be seen." Angel scolded.

"Not me. A boy will be seen." She waved a large brimmed hat over her head as she continued her march towards the door. "I'll be disguise as a boy, snoop around a little and then I'll come back. I also need to stop at the church to see Father Martin."

"What for?" Spike asked

She stopped halfway out the door and looked back at him with smug look on her face. "It's been three days since my last confession, silly. I need to be shrived before I patrol."

"Hey, what do we do if sleeping beauty shows up and is pissed off?" Spike called back.

"Offer him a drink and tell him I went to confession." She replied with a smile as she closed the door behind her.

Father Martin was very glad to see Alex as he rushed to greet her when she walked through the front doors of the church. "I've been worried, sick. Where have you been?"

"Sorry Father. As you know my friends are here, and well, we've been busy reorganizing our efforts."

"Any success?"

"Yes and no." When the priest looked confused she quickly explained about Malachi's destruction of Doc's room and her efforts to insert protective barriers around her new friends.

"Father did you take care of John Behan?"

Unconsciously he made a face before he answered. "Yes. Javier and I gave him a Christian burial. Poor soul." He made the sign of the cross and said a quick prayer.

"Are the others here yet?" She asked eagerly.

"No, I'm afraid not." He noticed she looked worried. "Come, Alex you can fill me in on the details while I listen to your confession.

The confession turned into a full-blown mass. Father Martin insisted on giving her the full Catholic protection mojo that included incense, Latin prayer, and a Holy water bath.

"Now you can go to the ranch to investigate. I dare say the Archangels themselves will protect you."

"Thank you, Father." She knelt at his feet and kissed his hand.

"Is there anything else I can do, Alex?"

"There is something. Can you run an errand for me? I haven't had the opportunity to look in on the oriental women I rescued. I also wanted to give the Li family some more money for the any medical expense."

"Of course." He replied.

"Give them this, and tell them I hope to see them soon." She handed him two hundred dollars.

The Priest looked with amazement at the large amount of money. "Do I dare ask where you found this?"

She had just finished tucking her hair under her hat. "I borrowed it from a friend. Don't worry, I'm sure he'll recoup his loses in another poker game tonight." She replied with a devilish smile as she walked to the door.

"Won't he be mad when he finds this money missing?"

"Oh, I'm counting on it." She called as she passed out the door.

The ride to the Clanton ranch proved to be uneventful. When she was insight of the property she dismounted and walked her horse through the thick pine trees that covered the ranch on three sides. Behind the ranch on the remaining side, she could see the beginning of the deep rocky terrain Spike had pointed out. It rose steeply to a high mountain that provided a beautiful backdrop for the ranch. Picturesque would be an appropriate term.

Since there was still a few hours of sunlight, she felt it was safe enough to circle the property on horseback and see if there was anything Angel and Spike had missed during the course of the night.

As she investigated the property, she saw tracks in the ground of multiple horses and wagons coming and going. The dead cows Angel had seen were gone and replaced by live ones.

_They've been feeding on cows and had taken great care to cover up the evidence of their meals. I wonder why? _

She started in the direction that Wyatt and Doc had been hiding the night she killed Ike. As she rode passed the spot of Ike's demise, she noticed someone had placed a bunch of wildflowers on the ground. Obviously, someone notice Ike was missing, most likely his brother, Billy. She remembered Ike's peculiar laugh as he hee-hawed at her through a mound of mashed potatoes and felt a sharp pang of regret.

She continued her search to the far side of the barn and corral, at times riding slowly before stopping her horse to continue on foot. She saw very little that gave her any encouragement, until she passed the back of the barn.

Alex knew it wasn't unusual for barns to have doors at both ends. It made it easier for a team of horses hitched to a wagon to be led into a barn and once the wagon was unloaded the team could be ridden straight out the back. What captured her attention on the back wall of the Clanton barn was the freshly cut doors and well oiled hinges. As if the Clantons had just recently decided to create the opening.

The doors were tightly closed with no means of viewing the inside. She didn't really want to walk in a dark barn that was possibly concealing a nest of vampires without Angel and Spike's help but there was one unanswered question she needed to investigate.

Slowly she rode to view the front of the barn, which would let the animals out to graze in the corrals. Just as she thought the hinges on those doors were weathered and worn. Which meant the back door had just been created. She moved once more around back to get another look and as she approached she noticed a fine path of stones and pebbles that led in a trail from the barn to the woods beyond.

"Curiouser and Curiouser." She muttered to herself as she rode the horse further into the woods.

* * *

Doc woke from his sleep slowly as he stretched out his long legs and rolled over in the bed where he continued to doze lightly, half awake and yet still half asleep. He loved waking up like this, the feel of sleep's gently push as it held him down, coaxing him and enticing him to give up his will and drift deeper into ether. The bed was almost too comfortable and inviting to rise from just yet, and for once his body was totally relaxed and completely free of pain. 

Yet, in spite of the temptation to surrender to his contentment he felt something was missing. The hard ridge pressed between his stomach and the soft cotton sheets on the bed reminded him. Unconsciously, he shifted his hips against the mattress as he remembered. _Alex._ He had been so out of control last night. Mad as hell one minute and the next burning to be inside her. How could it be possible to be so angry with someone and yet still crave their touch? But that is exactly what he felt when he threw her bodily against the door.

More awake then asleep now, he wondered if she would still be angry with him this morning. He hoped not, it would be a shame to waste this rock-hard erection he had. He reached out with one hand toward the other side of the bed firmly believing he would feel her soft warm skin with the tips of his fingers. He even envisioned spooning her against his body and perhaps drifting back to sleep, but reality ruptured his dreams when his hand met empty air.

His head snapped up, as he anxiously looked across the vacant bed before sitting up and looking around the room only to find it empty as well. He reached for his pocket watch that was sitting on the nightstand. It was almost 2 o'clock. He had slept most of the day away.

"Alex?" He called as a sense of foreboding coursed through his body .

No answer.

Perhaps she was in the bath. He grabbed his robe as he climbed out of bed and punched his arms through the sleeves. Without knocking first, he threw open the bathroom door and found nothing.

A string of curses rushed out of his mouth as he walked back through his room and into the adjoining room he had secured for her. It was also empty and showed no sign she had even entered the room. He cursed louder this time as he walked back into his bath and began to prepare for a very aggravating day.

Thirty minutes later he stood outside her cousin's hotel room door. If Alex had been there she would have been very impressed by the swift manner in which he had bathed and dressed. Although, half his clothes were still unbuttoned, his gun holster was not secured, and his cravat dangled loosely around his neck when he began to pound on the door.

A squeaky falsetto voice sang sweetly from the other side. "Who is it?"

"It's me." He growled.

"Me who?" It sang back.

Doc clenched his teeth as he seethed. "I'll give you two clues. My first clue will be to shoot out the lock on this fucking door if you don't open it immediately!"

He heard the lock spring and the door opened abruptly to reveal Spike standing shirtless, in his bare feet, and smoking a cigarette. "What's your second clue?" He sang in his mock female voice again only this time Doc could see the bold cocky smile he wore.

Spike was not surprised when he opened the door and found Alex's lover in a bad mood. However, he was taken back by the degree of that anger when Doc's hand whipped out to momentarily rest on the ivory handle of his gun as he glared back.

"You Southerners don't have much sense of humor do you?" He asked in his normal voice this time. He stepped away from the doorway to allow the other man access to the room.

"Is she…?" Doc started to ask but Spike interrupted him.

"No, she's not, Mate. Came and went hours ago." He felt a moment of pity at the exasperated look on the gambler's face. "Why don't you sit down for a spell and have some coffee. Perhaps she'll be back soon." He motioned him toward the small settee and table that held a fresh tray of coffee and breakfast cake. "I've ordered a proper spread."

At a loss to know what to do next, Doc sat down and watched Spike pour him a cup of coffee. "Where's your other cousin?" He asked as he sipped the hot beverage.

"He's in the loo." When Doc looked confused Spike clarified. "Sorry. Bath." Then he proceeded to stretch out in the chair with both legs extended and one arm tossed over the back as he studied the other man's partially dressed attire and grim expression. "Driving you to distraction is she?"

"In a word." Doc sighed as he began to roll a smoke.

"Women tend to do that to a man, especially when they get under your skin."

Grudgingly, Doc gave him a small smile as he sealed the paper with the tip of his tongue.

"It'll be worth it though, if things work out right in the end. I'm told you intend to marry the girl?"

He scoffed and then lit his cigarette. "She refused me."

"Did she now?" Spike was surprised. "No matter. I wouldn't take it to heart. They never say what they really mean anyway. Always so damn contrary. Say one thing, yet do another." He heard Doc grunt with agreement as he leaned over to pick up his cup. "Keeps the juices flowing though, don't it?" Spike offered as his face lit with a sly smirk.

Doc couldn't help but laugh at the other man's sharp perspective and the plain manner of his speech. "Do you know a thing or two about the fairer sex, Mr. Montgomery?"

"I go by Spike. You might call it a family knick name." He clarified before taking another deep pull from his smoke. "I've had my fair share. Some of them have even been pleasant." He felt a small measure of satisfaction when he coaxed another smile from Doc. "Alex is exceptional, though. Women like her don't come your way but once in a lifetime. Unfortunately for me, I've already had mine." He leaned over and snubbed out his cigarette.

"What happened?" Doc asked.

He shrugged. "We had our season, then it ended. Some things aren't meant to last and some things are. It's learning to recognize the difference that'll drive you mad."

Doc nodded thoughtfully. "Where's Alex, now?"

Spike chuckled softly. "She knew you'd be knocking on our door eventually. I was to offer you a drink and tell you she went to confession. Don't worry, she'll be back." Just as he finished his explanation Angel walked out of the bathroom wearing only a towel.

"I thought I heard voices." He nodded a greeting to Doc before he walked over to the closet to retrieve a fresh set of clothing.

"Our future family member came looking for Alexis. Not exactly what you'd call a surprise."

Angel turned to look at Spike, paused for a moment as he considered what to say, before shaking his head and turned away again.

Doc watched the two men in silence. There was something strange going on but he could quite figure it out. He highly suspected that a silent form of communication was being exchanged.

"Did you two work out your differences?" Angel asked.

"Not to my satisfaction." Doc replied dryly.

"How about hers, Mate? You know ladies always come first." Spike smirked.

"Shut up William." Angel threatened.

Despite his sour mood, Doc found Spike's cocky attitude and dry humor refreshing. It seemed to him he had finally found a kindred spirit. But he had had enough chitchat for one morning. "Obviously, I am interrupting your routine. If you should see Alexis before I do, please let her know I was asking for her."

As he rose from the sofa and began to walk to the door he noticed for the first time the tattoo on Angel's back. Setting aside his manners he pointed at the other man. "I've just noticed your tattoo, Angel. Perhaps you could tell me if this is a family tradition. I've observed Alex is also marked, but on the insides of her arms. Why is this?"

Angel narrowed his eyes at Doc. "That is a question she will have to answer." His tone of voice left no doubt that the topic of Alex and her tattoos would not be addressed by him.

"I see." He turned to Spike and continued his train of thought. "And you Spike, are you similarly marked as well?"

Spike gave Angel a devilish grin before turning to Doc and saying, "Not me. I was brought up right and proper."

Doc looked back and forth at the two men. "I'm curious, you don't look like brothers. I see no family resemblance at all."

Spike jerked his thumb in Angel's direction and said with a straight face, "Oh, he's adopted."

Doc studied them both for a moment longer, and then sighed with frustration. "Thank you for the coffee. I will be at the Oriental, if _she_ wishes to know where I am. Why don't you both stop by when you're free?" Then he turned and walked out the door.

Spike stared at the closed door for several moments before declaring, "It seems our little girl has got him hanging by his…. Well, you know what I mean."

"And you're not helping the situation." Angel snapped.

"I'm not hurting it either."

"Did he say anything important?"

Spike shook his head. "He's too chewed up to say anything worth while. You know, I feel kind of sorry for him."

* * *

Doc returned to his room to finish dressing and to leave a note for Alex before he went to the Oriental. When he opened the door to his room he noticed for the first time the strong aroma of lavender lingering in the air. He was puzzled as to why he had not noticed it before. It couldn't have been Alex's perfume because her overnight stay in his room had been unplanned, so she hadn't brought any personal possessions with her. 

He walked over to open a window to allow a little air into the room and that's when he noticed several specks of bluish leaf on the floor by the drapery. Kneeling to take a better look, he pushed back the curtains and found a substantial amount of dried herbs in a small pile carefully hidden behind the folds of material. He pinched a small amount and brought it up to his nose. It was a mixture of lavender and sage.

He had no doubt who had deposited the herbs in his room. What he didn't know was why Alex had done it. What was the purpose? If the objective was to fragrant the room, then why bother to hide it? He retrieved the travel bag that contained his dental equipment and pulled out a small glass vial. He scraped a substantial amount of the herb into the vial, sealed it with a cork and then placed it carefully into his vest pocket.

For the next twenty minutes he looked in every nook and cranny in his room and hers. Altogether, he found ten piles of the herb mixture carefully hidden from view but placed at strategic positions, namely, near all the possible entrances into both rooms. Is this why she had purchased such a large amount of the herbs from the Miller's store? But this wasn't the only incidence in which she had used them. There was also the encounter with Behan and his violent reaction when Alex had tossed a cluster at him. At the time he had thought he had imagined the small column of smoke rising from the spot where the herbs landed on the sheriff's body. He wondered now if he had seen some kind of chemical reaction in conjunction with Behan's odd behavior.

He was careful to not disturb the piles she had placed about their rooms, somehow sensing how important it was that they remain. He also wanted the element of surprise when he got the opportunity to ask Alex why she had done such a strange thing. Just let her try to explain her way out of this mess.


	38. Busy Vampires Equals Lots of Trouble

**Chapter 37 – Busy Vampires Equals Lots of Trouble**

Alex continued her exploration into the dense woods behind the Clanton ranch and what she found astonished her. Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined the sight before her. It was a sea of rocky rubble hidden by a protective circle of clustered pine trees. The circumference of the pile of stone was approximately the size of a football field. To control the large pile of stone they had first cleared the area of trees and then created a retaining wall on the back half of the circle with cut trees. The wall was approximately twenty feet in height and shaped like a horseshoe. The mountain of rock was almost as high as the retaining wall and gradually sloped downward and out to fill the entire area.

"Malachi, you've been a very busy boy."

Carefully, she rode around the outside of the circle. She found tools they had used to cut the trees and several shovels, which she supposed were used to unload the rock and stones from the wagons. But where were they getting the rocks?

On the left side of circle she found a hidden wagon trail carefully concealed with branches and brush. She followed the trail until it ended at a steep base of boulders that lead up the side of the mountain that shadowed the Clanton ranch. Eventually she found the opening the vampires had created. They had taken a lot of trouble to seal the opening with a large boulder and a blind of tree branches.

Obviously Malachi was excavating something inside the mountain and dumping the stone in the clearing. Judging from the amount of stone at the clearing, there had to be at least a hundred or more vampires working to achieve some fiendish goal. It was a staggering amount of vampires to kill. There was no way she would have been able to kill them all, not at the rate they can increase their numbers. But what was Malachi looking for, and why bother to seal up the only opening to the mine? How did the new barn doors and hinges figure into the picture and why hadn't she seen more vampires during her patrol? These were questions she wanted to discuss with Angel and Spike.

She looked up at the sky and saw it would be nightfall in just a few minutes. She needed to get out of here before it was dark. She turned the horse around and carefully worked her way back through the woods to the front of the ranch letting the dense pines conceal her presence. Her plan was to break for the main road once she was far enough from the Clanton property line. The sun had just sunk below the horizon as she came within view of the corral. Suddenly, she saw five men on horseback come bursting out of the barn at a fast run and onto the main road heading in the direction of town. The two riders out in front she recognized as Curly Bill Brocious and Johnny Ringo.

"Bugger." She hissed under her breath.

She kicked her horse sharply and took off after them, but their horses were too fast and she was quickly left behind in a cloud of dust. She wished more than once for the use of her cell phone. How easily modern devices are taken for granted, with a few touches of some buttons she could have called Angel and told him to be on the look out for an approaching group of death and destruction coming his way. She had a feeling the first place Ringo would go is the Oriental. Now that he was stronger and more powerful then Doc he would want to continue the challenge that was issued several nights earlier. But would Doc be at the Oriental or would he still be at the hotel angry and ranting at Angel and Spike that she had snuck out while he was sleeping?

She needed help, and she needed it now.

She veered off the main road to continue in the direction of the church. As she approached she said a prayer of thanks when she saw Father Martin and his alter boy, Javier, sweeping the church's stone entrance way. She slowed the horse down to a walk and let the animal step in place as she called out her instructions.

"Father, go get Angel and tell him to come to the Oriental. There's going to be trouble." She saw the surprised look in the Priest's eyes before she spun the horse around once and continue her hard ride through the town.

* * *

Doc wasn't having particularly good luck at poker or faro. He had only been at the Oriental for three hours and already he had lost over hundred dollars. And to add to his financial stress, sometime in the last twenty-four hours he had misplaced another two hundred dollars. Obviously, it was time to stop gambling for a spell, and give in to his desire to get mind numbing drunk instead. He doubted drinking would improve his temperament – it hardly ever did – but perhaps it would later improve his game.

Wyatt and his brothers had arrived a little more then an hour ago. On Wyatt's arm clung the object of his affection. _So much for maintaining social standards_, Doc thought. From a solitary table opposite the saloon door he watched the stage take form. Josie and Wyatt made a direct path to the piano�where she commenced to sing a song. Virgil stood at his post at the end of the bar as he watched the room like a hawk that craves the taste of mice. Morgan grabbed a glass and joined Doc at the table. Without asking, he poured himself a drink directly from the bottle sitting on the table.

Now slightly buzzed, Doc smirked at Morgan as he watched him toss back his drink. "My friend, you and Wyatt are perhaps the only two people who can freely help themselves to my whisky and live long enough to swallow."

Morgan laughed softly and filled his glass again. "What about Alex? I bet she doesn't need your approval?"

Doc's expression abruptly darkened as he emptied his glass. "That theory is now open for discussion, Morgan."

Morgan quickly refilled his friend's glass. "Are you two still fighting? Gee, Doc, with your Southern charm I figured you have her eating out of your hand by now. What happened?"

He leaned in close to his friend and in a low voice said, "I asked her to marry me last night." He paused as the revelation from this news flashed across Morgan's face. "And she refused me."

Morgan frowned heavily. "She's probably still mad at you. Shoot, Louisa turned me down a total of five times before I finally got her to agree. Women are that way Doc. They want you to chase them down, and then hold them down and then…" He smiled devilishly. "Well, I know I don't have to tell you what to do next."

Doc scowled and sipped from his glass. "It's more than that Morgan. She continues to be evasive about her background. As each day goes by, more and more questions arise, and still I have no answers. Take this for example." He reached into this pocket and withdrew the glass vial and handed it to Morgan. "Open it and smell what's inside."

Morgan uncorked the tube and sniffed. "Lavender and something else…."

"It's sage. I found ten piles of the mixture hidden at all the entry points to my hotel room."

Amazed, Morgan stumbled over how to reply. "What did she say when you asked her?"

"I haven't asked her because she snuck out of my bed and disappeared this morning. I haven't seen her since." Talking about it was only upsetting him more, so he tossed back another shot. "Her cousins tell me she went to confession. I'm not Catholic, but I would wager it doesn't take all day to confess. And then there's the incident at Fly's last night."

Morgan motioned for Doc to stop his narrative. "What incident?"

"I'm not boarding at Fly's anymore because someone vandalized my room last night. You remember how Alex's cousin, Angel, wanted to speak with me in private? When we entered my room we found my bed and chair had been cut to ribbons. Pinned to my closet door was a photograph of Alex sitting on swing with another man, whom I'm told is her late husband. No other explanation was given."

During Doc's story Wyatt had quietly sat down at the table. When Doc paused to sip on his drink he turned and a nodded a greeting to his friend.

"Still having a bad time, Doc? Have you talked to Alex about this?"

"Oh, we talked, screamed, and did other unmentionable things. But I still know practically nothing."

"What did Fly say about your room?" Wyatt asked.

"He had no idea what happened or who did it. I moved to the Grande because Angel refused to allow Alex to come back to the boarding house."

"And Alex offered no information when you asked her about the picture and your room?"

Doc gave Wyatt a thin smile. "She admits to having an previous lover who may be in town, but she has also pointed out to me that Kate could have very well been involved in vandalizing my room as well.

"But the photo?" Wyatt pointed out.

"Ah, yes, the photo." He laughed softly. "Well, Alex maybe a liar, just not a very good one."

"Show Wyatt the vial, Doc." Morgan suggested.

When Wyatt opened the tube he knew immediately what it was. "I smelled this in my hotel room too. It's probably the hotel staff's way of freshening the rooms."

"Let me see that?" Wyatt turned to find Virgil standing behind him. Virgil smelled the herbs and then wrinkled his nose. "I've noticed the same odor around my house. What the hell is this?"

"Lavender and sage." Doc said as his interest picked up. "Are you sure about that Virgil?

"Yeah, I'm sure." He replied as he sat next to Wyatt at the table. "Do you think Alex knows something about this?"

"Virgil, I'm not only sure she is involved, I think she placed this mixture at each of our places of residence. I would wager Morgan has the same odor at his house as well."

"Why would she do that?" Wyatt asked.

"That, my friend, is what I'm determined to find out."

* * *

Malachi knew he should have kept his mouth shut. Ranting and raging about Holliday and Alex did little good, but he had been so pissed when he arrived back at his camp last night. The pain in his arm had only increased his anger. Alex always had been a bloody good shot with her damn darts. Fortunately, he had stumbled or she would have nailed him right in the heart. Which was another point of contention that brought on another round of ranting and raging. His wife had actually tried to kill him. At the time he had been stunned.

Naturally, he always ran away from her whenever he had encountered her these past thirteen months, and of course she always acted like she battling to the death, but he never actually thought she had the nerve to go through with it. He was just leading her on a merry chase, giving her just enough clues to keep up with him, but eventually he wanted to wear her down, destroy her emotionally, before he trapped her and made her is wife again in every sense of the word. She still loved him, didn't she? There was never any doubt in his mind of his feelings for her. Technically, he might not have a soul but he stilled had the ability to love. It might take some convincing, but he would make her see they could still be together.

It was Doc Holliday that was disrupting his plans and interfering with his wife. He had hoped to turn the dentist and bring him into the fold. What an asset he could have been, and like Alex, he wanted to save the gambler from death. Biting him and then leaving that note for Alex to find was just another way to rattle her emotional stability. He had also hoped the sick and dying dentist would be a useful distraction for Alex and the Earps as well. It never occurred to him that his straight and true Guardian wife would have the nerve to break a rule and use her new gift to change history.

He had learned about her gift quite by accident when he had come to find her at the mission. By the time he gotten there Alex had already departed for Rome, but the stir of excitement she caused was still evident as he listen to the nuns discuss the miracles she had performed. The advancement of her gift was not a surprise for him. When he had been assigned as her instructor he had been told about her unusual ability to heal quickly. The Guardians knew the odds of her system advancing to the next level were extremely high. What they didn't know was how to trigger it. As it turned out nature had saved them the effort.

Instilling in her the belief that her gift was not to be taken lightly, he suspected, was deemed necessary until further tests could be done. Only Arthur could have stalled that examination, most likely in light of her mourning period. Now that she had slipped her bonds of restraint, Alex was no longer behaving in the rational manner he had come to depend on. His wife was turning into a creature he no longer recognized, and Doc Holliday was the cause. But nothing was as he thought it would be since he had been turned.

When Behan had reported that Holliday was not only alive but also in extremely good health, he had exploded. In light of these new events, turning Doc Holliday was clearly no longer an option. After all, the man was fucking his wife, and he had every intention of rendering some old fashion retribution. Once Doc was taken care of he would then deal with is wife's infidelity and return her to the confines of his realm.

The other problem he needed to deal with was the Cowboys. Lately, he was beginning to believe that turning them had not been such a good idea. They were too strongly bonded to one another, and had been working and thieving together for too many years. Even after he had turned them they continued to stay separate from the rest of his growing army and remain loyal to one another.

But they were also strong, and Malachi had needed strong members to stand beside him when he made his move. The Cowboys were willing to fight with him; he had no doubts about that. They were ambitious and greedy, traits he possessed himself, which was why he had hand picked each member personally. Ringo was the final member to join them. Ringo was also one of his biggest rivals where Alex was concerned. Johnny Ringo wanted her. Malachi could see the desire in his eyes, and smell it radiating from every pour in his body. From the moment Ringo had opened his demon eyes and viewed a new world, he had asked numerous questions about Alex and the Guardians. Malachi had tried to downplay her roll in his plans but Curly Bill was always standing on the sidelines egging Ringo on.

But downplaying Alex's existence in town was impossible. The little bitch had managed to dispose of several key members of his group, something he hadn't thought possible. She was persistent, his loving wife, and her persistence was proving to be another source of contention between himself and the Cowboy gang. Ike Clanton's death had been a terrific blow. It had taken all of his persuasive powers to stop Curly Bill from extracting revenge against the Earps for Ike's demise. Finally, to calm the hot blooded Cowboy, he had promised him first dibs at Wyatt and his brothers when the time came to put the final stage of his plan in motion.

It had been a grave error letting the others see how distress he was by the failed assignation against Holliday and Alex's unexpected attack. His lack of control had only produced more instability among his crew giving Ringo and that damn Curly Bill the opportunity and the motive to make a move against him. He should have seen trouble coming his way, but he had let Alex and Doc Holliday distract him. Tonight, when he woke from his daylight slumber, he found Ringo and his cohorts had made a break for freedom. After his first initial burst of anger, Malachi quickly rounded up a few strong members of his group to accompany him with the intent of riding directly to the Oriental where he knew Ringo would go to search for Alex.

If he was very lucky, Ringo and Holliday would provoke one another; whichever victor was left standing Malachi would take out later. It was Alex he needed to reach before it was too late. There was no way he would stand for another vampire to turn her. That was to be his accomplishment. She was his wife and her first taste of blood would come from his body and no other.

One final trip into town would set everything right…he hoped.

* * *

**A/N: I hoped you enjoyed reading. If you did, then by all means leave me a review. I'd love to hear from you.**


	39. Hi Honey, I'm Home

**Chapter 38 - Hi Honey, I'm Home **

At the front of the saloon five foaming horses stood without their riders. Alex rode passed them and turned down the alleyway to the back of the building. As she dismounted she heard several women scream. By the time she tore open the kitchen door people were streaming in her direction. She plowed through them as best as she could. One man reached out and grabbed her arm and cried, "Don't go in there, miss. The devil has finally come to Tombstone to claim his own." She threw him off and continued to push her way out to the dinning area.

The saloon was in chaos.

She had been trained to quickly survey a scene such as this and move to protect the innocents who were in the greatest peril. But her heart had only one goal… Doc. She found him behind the faro table with both guns drawn. Ringo was standing directly in front of him and fully vamped out. She watched in horror as Doc thumbed back the hammers on both guns and fired, hitting Ringo directly in chest. The force pushed the cowboy back several feet. He quickly regained his balance and approached Doc again. Alex heard Ringo gleefully announce, "Nice try Holliday," right before he reached for his throat. He had lifted Doc several inches off the floor when Alex called out to him.

"Johnny Ringo!" She came at him in a dead run.

Ringo turned at the sound of her voice and smiled, baring a mouth full of jagged sharp teeth. "There's my girl, right on time." He dismissed the dentist by tossing him hard against the wall behind the faro table and turned to give Alex his full attention. Doc struck the wall like a sack of wet sand and slid to the floor.

She took a flying leap onto the faro table, landed on one foot and pushed off again. Up and over her body somersaulted in midair, and when the heel of her boot was level with Ringo's face she kicked out, using his face as leverage to halt her motion and flip back around to land with both feet on the table.

Ringo flew backward, hit the table behind him, and landed on the floor with a thud. Her line of fire was now clear. She reached under her jacket and withdrew two darts. With a flick of her wrist the darts went sailing and buried themselves deep into her two closest targets. There were two bursts of air as Billy Clanton, Barnes turned to dust. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Doc retrieve his pistols from the floor and quickly stand, keeping his back to the wall.

She tried to ignore him and concentrated on the scene of destruction before her. Curly Bill was standing at the bar having a drink. Unfortunately for him, he was drinking from the throat of pretty brunette. She pulled another dart and was ready to toss it, when suddenly Wyatt appeared and moved into her line of fire. He clubbed Curly Bill over the head with the handle of his gun, which did very little to subdue the vampire. In the next instant Wyatt was propelled across the room and into a group of tables.

She heard Morgan and Virgil yelling for their brother. At the same time Doc fired again. When Curly Bill turned to face her, she hit him dead center in the heart.

_Three down, and two to go_, she thought. _But who is the fifth vampire_? She looked anxiously around the room until she spotted him standing near the front entrance. Johnny Tyler was wearing his vampire face and was actively ripping the clothes from a woman Alex had never seen before. Virgil moved to intervene but before she could call out a warning to him, she saw three more members of the Cowboy gang walk causally through the front door.

She managed to shout Virgil's name before her world took a tumble.

* * *

"They're late again." Louisa announced as she checked the little watch pinned to her jacket and saw it was quarter to seven. "Morgan knows I hate it when he's late and ruins a perfectly cooked meal."

Allie looked over at her sister-in-law as she basted the now well-done roast that was warming in the oven. "The meat will be tough. I just know Virgil will open his big mouth and suggest I get Alex to show me how to cook properly."

The comment was said as a jest. She adored Alex and had already gotten several cooking tips from her. However, the Earp brothers comical and exaggerated appraisals of Alex's cooking techniques did little to cool Allie's temper when her inconsiderate husband and his knuckled-headed brother showed up for a family dinner forty-five minutes late. Allie walked to the front window of her small, yet well-kept cottage and looked out over the Arizona landscape for any signs of her husband's arrival. Her gaze was met with the evening's quiet stillness.

She sighed with frustration and decided to take matters into her own hands. "Well, I'm damn tired of waiting. Louisa would you mind staying here to baste the roast? I'm going down to the Oriental to fetch our husbands home by the ears."

Louisa looked alarmed by this statement. "Are you sure you should, Allie? Virgil and Morgan were pretty clear about us staying inside after sunset. Especially since Mattie…."

Louisa's voice trailed off, her argument unfinished, but Allie knew exactly what she was trying to say. Both women were well aware Mattie's murderer still remained at large. "And I was pretty clear about what time my dinner would be ready too. It's a short walk to the saloon and I'll only be a few minutes." She wrapped a heavy shawl around her shoulders and tied on her bonnet. "I'll be fine, Lou. Don't worry. Keep an eye on things until I get back."

She started out at a fast clip, the faster her legs carried her, the more determined she became. The lights from the saloon were just coming into her view when three men on horseback approached her.

"Mrs. Earp?" The dark haired man in front called.

She turned at the sound of her name. "Yes?"

"Mrs. Virgil Earp?" He asked again.

"Yes, I'm Mrs. Virgil Earp." As he came closer she could make out his features better. _How handsome, _she thought as she assessed his dark hair and deep-blue eyes, but in the next instant her opinion abruptly changed when he quickly reached down from his horse and grabbed her by her upper arm, lifting her up and across the front of the saddle. His face was now distorted, displaying animalistic features, yellow eyes and sharp canine teeth.

"I can't tell you what a pleasure it is to make your acquaintance."

Allie screamed once in terror and then fainted.

The man turned to his two companions and laughed as his face turned back to its humanistic form. "Can't say I think too much of these Earp women, boys. Honestly, I don't see what the attraction is. They can't hold a candle to my wife." Then he spurred his horse hard and continued to his destination.

* * *

Johnny Ringo had recovered from Alex's dramatic entrance and was now standing with both feet firmly on the floor. She heard Doc scream her name and fire once more at Ringo and miss. Ringo swung his fist and hit Doc squarely on the chin. His unconscious body sliding to the floor distracted her long enough for Ringo to make his move.

He reached across the table, grabbed both her ankles and pulled. Her upper body came crashing down on the faro table, knocking the air out of her lungs. Her head smacked the solid wood surface so hard her vision went black, leaving a trail of white sparks behind her eyes. She lay there stunned.

Ringo grabbed her by the ankles and pulled her to the edge of the table. He now stood between her legs, his bulging groin pressed painfully against her. Confident of his victory, he clamped his right hand around her throat and squeezed, closing her airway as he leaned over body and pressed his chest against her. His left hand quickly restrained her further by locking around her right wrist.

Still dazed from banging her head, Alex found she couldn't move or breathe. Terror she had not experience for more then a year made a nest in her heart and began to peck a hole in her brain.

"I've been thinking about you." He whispered in a sensual, erotic tone, leaving little doubt what manner his thoughts lay.

He opened his mouth wide, and she thought, _this is it, now he's going to bite you and there's not a damn thing you can do about it_. But instead of biting her, he licked her, leaving a wide, wet trail over the side of her face and the putrid smell of death in her nostrils.

She thought she heard someone calling her name, but she couldn't be sure. All the sound in the room seemed to blend into a jumble of noise that buzzed in her ears making it hard to differentiate one voice from the din.

Ringo pulled back to look at her and some of the weight on her chest lessened. She stared into yellow demonic eyes that looked back at her with an expression she could only describe as delight when he suddenly let go his demonic features to present his human face to her. "We were told to stay away from you." He laughed softly. "Guess he wanted to keep you all to himself. Can't say I blame him. I've got the same notion myself."

He yanked her to a sitting position by her neck and lessened his hold on her airway. Alex gulped for air, and felt some strength flow back into her body. She raised her left hand and punched him in the nose, but she did very little damage before he squeezed hard, cutting of her air again. Her world went gray for a moment before he loosened his hold allowing her to breathe again. Still partially immobilized, she jerked her shoulders back as she struggled to wrench her body free from his grasp. She was trapped, unable to break his hold or kick him because he was standing between her legs.

"Don't struggle, Alex." He said tenderly as he pressed his groin against her. "It will only make it worse. I can make this pleasurable for you – for both of us – if you'll let me."

"Fuck you." She rasped.

He laughed at her, showing her two long, pointed canines. "Oh, we'll get to that, sweetheart. Don't rush things."

She fought back the only way she could. She pulled her head back and slammed her forehead against Ringo's as hard as she could.

The maneuver worked. Dazed by the blow, he released the death hold on her throat and staggered backward two steps. Alex brought her right foot up and kicked him as hard as she could in the jaw. Quickly she slid off the table and landed on her feet as she reached for her vest and withdrew a wooden stake. She stepped to the left and positioned her back to the bar. Behind Johnny was a table and several chairs, beyond that the wall. To the left of Ringo she saw Doc slowly rise to his feet, a small trickle of blood seeped from his mouth.

Ringo had recovered from her attack and was slowly advancing. He rubbed one hand along his chin and a slow, silky smile emerged. "Well, I didn't think you had it in you. But you know Alex, I'm glad. It just wouldn't be proper to convert a Guardian without a good fight."

His remark had no effect. When he came within range she jumped, spun in midair and landed another solid blow against the side of his face. He fell against the tables behind him but quickly recovered his balance.

One more maneuver and she would have him in position. This time she gave him a solid kick to his chest, and watched with satisfaction as his body sailed over the table and hit the wall behind it. Alex was right behind him. When he turned, she struck again with the heel of her hand in an upward motion landing a solid whack to his nose, sending shards of bone into his brain. His head snapped back and banged against the wall. She felt a moment of satisfaction when Johnny Ringo's knees buckled from the series of blows.

Alex steadied his body by grabbing his throat with her left hand. She pressed her forearm and elbow hard against his chest. Dazed hazel eyes looked back at her unable to understand how events had transgressed so badly.

"I'm so sorry, Johnny." She said in a sad whisper right before she thrust the stake through his heart.

When the dust settled she looked over at Doc. The expression on his face was one of pure terror. She wanted to reassure him, but now was not the time. There were still innocent people in the saloon that needed her more then Doc did at the moment. Business first, pleasure later. Sadly, she realized that after tonight he would probably never speak to her again. His head turned and he looked in her direction. She briefly made eye contact with him before she heard Spike call her name.

_It's about fucking time, _she thought. He was standing at the entrance and had just eliminated Johnny Tyler. He nodded in greeting before he turned to punch the vampire called Pony Deal in the face.

Standing at the end of the bar, Billy Claiborne was holding a woman from behind as unknown vampire was prepared to bite her. Both demons were so engrossed in there feeding that they took little notice as Alex approached. As she moved to intervene, two more people ran passed her to exit the saloon by the back door in the kitchen. At the moment she couldn't be sure if they would be any safer outside the saloon or inside. There was no way to know how many vampires were walking the streets of Tombstone tonight. She heard Doc call out her name, but she ignored him. Still holding the stake in her hand she used a downward thrust and the vampire was no more. Claiborne screamed in anger, but still held the woman as a shield in front of his body blocking her from staking him in the heart, so she stabbed him in the forehead instead.

He screamed with pain and released the woman as he reached with both hands to remove the stake from his head. Alex pulled the woman forward by the front of her dress and pushed her to the floor. Then she quickly punched Billy Claiborne in the forehead burying the stake deeper. "Bitch!" He howled with pain again and pulled the stake free. "That wasn't too smart. Now I have your stake."

Alex shrugged. "No problem, I have more." He never got a chance to reply. When the dust settled she leaned over and picked up the stake that had dropped to the floor. In true western style, she twirled both pieces of wood around in her hands before placing both back inside her vest.

Looking quickly about the room she saw that Wyatt and his brothers had been pulling people out of harms way and toward the back of the saloon. Thankfully, she saw that none of the Earps were hurt. Morgan was comforting the woman Curley Bill had bitten. Wyatt had his arm around Josie who was crying hysterically. Virgil stood his ground with both guns drawn as he played watchdog barring anyone from approaching. Spike stood by his side in total awe as he watched the lawman's stance.

"Alex?" Doc called out.

She turned to find him standing behind her. When he reached for her arm Alex felt the fear driven tremble running through his hands. His eyes said a multitude of things to her that could never be put into words. She desperately wanted to feel his arms around her and hear him say he now understood the reason behind her secretive behavior. She reached for his hand and felt relief when he threaded his fingers around hers. Wyatt call to Doc, and she heard Spike approach and ask if she was all right, but all the noise around her faded as she stared back into Doc's blue eyes. He reached up and brushed the hair off her face. "I wanted to tell you." She whispered, and before he could object she stood on her toes and kissed him hard on the mouth.

"Holliday, you dirty son of a bitch, get your hands off my wife."

Alex froze with her arms still wrapped around Doc's shoulders. She turned to look toward the front of the saloon and found Malachi standing in the doorway.

"Hi honey, I'm home." He called with glee.

Malachi was holding Allie in front of his body with her one arm pinned sharply behind her back while his other hand was wrapped tightly around her throat. Her face trembled with fright as tears streamed down her cheeks. She heard Virgil call out to her from his position near the bar. Protecting their maker, two other vampires wearing their demon faces flanked Malachi on both sides and had their guns drawn.

"I figured it was time we had a little husband to wife talk." He was wearing his human face and the first thing Alex thought was how beautiful he was.

Slowly she pulled away from Doc and turned to face her living nightmare. "Pictures don't do you justice, Mal." She called back in a calm voice. "I'd forgotten how handsome you were."

"How handsome I _am_, sweetheart. I'm still me. Everything still works, and I still have all the same parts, if you know what I mean. Would you care to take me out for a spin?" To torment her he flashed his demon face at her before changing back to his human one. "Or is the dentist giving it to you good enough that you don't miss your husband anymore?"

She heard Doc suck in his breath with shock right before Virgil shouted, "You let my wife go." From the corner of her eye she saw him advance to her left side. She quickly reached out and motioned for him to stand still.

Malachi turned his eyes on the lawman. "You Earps are careless with your women. Why, I keep finding them all over Tombstone."

"You son of a bitch." Wyatt cursed before he began to move forward as well.

Spike called out to him. "Don't move, mate. He can snap her neck like a twig."

"He's right you know. I can and I will. Her death won't be as artistic as Mattie's was, but it will definitely be just as fun." To emphasize his point he squeezed Allie harder to make her cry out with pain and fright.

"What do you want Malachi? Did you come here to run your mouth or do you have a purpose?" Alex called as she started to inch her way forward. When Doc grabbed the back of her jacket she reluctantly stopped moving.

"I came to bring you home, Alexis." He replied sincerely. "This is not how I envisioned our reunion, but Ringo accelerated my plans. Apparently your charms have captured the attention of several men in town. I don't know whether to be jealous or proud." He appeared to think about the dilemma for a moment before he shrugged his shoulders. "It doesn't matter. I'll have plenty of time to maul over the details as I drain you dry and wait for you to cross over to the dark side of the force."

She smiled sweetly at him. "Cute. I see you didn't lose your sense of humor when you lost your soul. Let her go Malachi or you won't get anything from me but a hard time."

He laughed loudly at her before he turned to address Doc. "Holliday, have you encountered Alex's temper yet? God, she's beautiful when she mad, isn't she? But surely you must know that by now. As a matter of fact, I bet your wondering about a lot of things concerning my wife. Tell me Doc, how's your cough? I bet its better. I'll even go as far and say it's completely disappeared."

He shook his head but continued to smile. "Silly me, I thought I had you out of the picture. I never thought my Alex would dare break a Guardian rule and regulation. He must be very special, Alexis." He shook his head again as he continued to bate Doc.

"Can you imagine my surprise when smelly ol' Behan told me you two were a couple; that my WIFE was fucking another man? I mean, think about it…I've only been dead a little more then a year. That's not very prim and proper now is it? But perhaps we should compare notes, Holliday. Man to man, don't you just love that little whimpering noise she makes when she gets really excited?"

Alex saw Doc's hands twitch as they hovered over the handle of his gun, but she stopped him by grabbing his arm. "How lewd." Doc replied drolly. "Where I'm from we don't discuss our women in saloons. But in all honesty, your relationship with Alex was only brought up in passing. I can see now why it wasn't worth mentioning."

Malachi narrowed his eyes. "Lucky you weren't home when I called on you again. I so wanted to splatter your blood over the walls of your room. I was even thinking about sticking your decapitated head in her bed. You know, kind of like a love memento."

Alex chuckled and shook her head at him. "Is this it? Did you come here to bore us with your jealous tantrum? Let her go Malachi. Let's stop the games and get on with it, or don't you have the balls to face me alone?"

In a serious tone he said, "You're not good enough to fight me Al. You never were."

"I think you'll find my technique has improved. I've taken out quite a few of your force alone and unaided, and you haven't been able to stop me."

"I haven't wanted to stop you, sweetheart. It's been fun watching you run amuck saving innocents and slaughtering my little ants I've sent your way. But it's time to stop this charade. I want you to come home now. I miss my wife."

"Ants?" She asked with one brow raised. "So, you consider Ike and Billy Clanton, Stillwell, Tom and Frank McLaury, Curley Bill, Barnes, Claiborne, Breckenridge, oh and let's not forget the famous Johnny Ringo, dispensable? There are others of course, but I don't recall their names. Let's face it Malachi, I made a good dent in your posse, more then you want to admit."

He scowled darkly at her. "It doesn't matter!" He exploded as his face changed to reveal the demon inside. "You can't beat me. My plans have come too far for you to stop me now!" He squeezed Allie a little harder and when she yelled with pain she heard Virgil curse softly under his breath. "Hey Virgil, I wonder if your wife will taste as sweet as Wyatt's?" He leaned in and licked the side of her face.

Outwardly, Alex seemed to be unaffected by Allie's distress. Inwardly, she was frightened and struggling to keep control over her raging emotions. In a calm steady voice she stated, "Malachi if you hurt her I swear I'll chase you to the ends of the earth, and I'll bring the entire Guardian army with me. You'll be hunted like the animal you are. No one will give you shelter, and there will be no place for you to hide."

Her threat seemed to make an impact and for a moment a hint of fear showed in his yellow eyes. Alex saw the time was right to manipulate the situation further. "Besides, she not the one you really want, is she?"

A malevolent laugh spewed from his mouth revealing a full set of sharp teeth and two long canine fangs. He shook his head slowly and his demonic face faded. "No. It has always been about you and me, Alex." For the first time since his arrival, his words were not meant to hurt or bate her into a fight.

Alex didn't think it was possible for a demon to feel the emotions that a human feels, but apparently she was wrong. There was a turbulent pool of emotion bubbling just below the surface in the walking, talking corpse that resembled her husband. For the first time since his death she began to wonder how much of her husband's sentiment and personality remained alive in the being before her. Pain, sharp and real rose to the surface of his face and she watched with wonder as his eyes filled with tears.

"I went to hell and came back just to be with you." He confessed sadly. "I sacrificed everything for you, even my soul. Why didn't you listen to me, Alex? If you had only listened to me we'd be together now, and so very happy, and I would still be the man I once was. If only you hadn't fought back my plans would have been successful."

She had no idea what he was talking about. His admission had so disrupted her train of thought she almost found herself ready to ask him to explain what he meant. For thirteen long months she had wondered and speculated about the events of that night in the jungle. But it would be foolish of her to expect a demon to tell her the truth. Besides, Allie's life was more important then the truth of an event she could no longer change.

She looked back at him with what she hoped was a pleading and desperate expression. Calmly and softly she said, "Let's make a deal then. You let her go and I'll come peacefully." Beside her she felt Doc's body jerk with surprise.

Malachi was also surprised by her admission. "Do you really mean it, sweetheart? No big catfight first?" He retorted with a sarcastic tone.

"Do it now Malachi before I change my mind." She took a step forward and felt Doc grip her arm tightly.

"What are you doing?" He demanded

"What I must." She pushed his hand away and continued to walk across the saloon floor. She got within a few feet of Malachi when he told her to stop.

"That's far enough. I want you stripped of your pretense and of course all your weapons, too. Take off your coat, Alex. I want to see what you're wearing."

Slowly, she reached for the opening of her coat and pealed the leather off her shoulders. Underneath she wore her vest that held her combat gear. "The vest too and the gun. Take if all off for Daddy."

She unsnapped the vest, pulled free her gun and dropped them slowly to the floor. When she was stripped of her weapons he smiled. "Now your right boot." She pulled up her pants leg to reveal an eight-inch blade tucked in her boot. She tossed the knife to the floor. "Now put your hands in the air and turn around." He commanded.

She stretched her arms out and turned slowly. As he watched her perform, a small crease rose between his brows. "Holliday, my wife is thin. Haven't you been feeding her? See Al, no one takes care of you like I do. You should have known better then to get involved with a backward Southern rebel."

She finished her spin and stood facing him with her hands limp at her sides. "He's too smart to take your bate Malachi, so spare us the rhetoric and shut the fuck up." Alex replied before Doc's temper got the better of him.

"Ooooh, hit a nerve did I?" He taunted. "Is it love Alex? Do you really think a reprobate like Doc Holliday is man enough for you, princess? Tell me, what did you think you would do with a man 121 years older then you anyway?"

"It hurts doesn't it, Malachi? That you were replaced so quickly, so easily."

He scowled darkly at her. "I'm going to change your mind about replacing me Alexis, and when I'm finished I'll make sure Doc Holliday is your first meal. Now walk slowly to me and keep your arms down and still. If you so much as twitch, I'll snap her neck." He jerked his hand again, forcing Allie to whimper in protest.

When she was within arm's reach, Malachi released Allie by pushing her forward and on to the floor. She saw Doc move quickly to snatch her up and pull her to safety. Faster than she thought possible, Alex felt her body jerked forward and into Malachi's arms. Like a rabbit caught in a snare, she stayed absolutely still as he ran his hands over her face and hair. When he kissed her tenderly on the mouth she did not fight him. With her back turned toward the room she said a silent, thankful prayer that Doc's face wouldn't be the last thing she ever saw.

Tenderly, Malachi sighed and hugged her close …

"Alexis." He whispered in her ear with such passion it reminded her of the days when they were happy and so in love.

… and she held her breath,

A part of her she thought had died was suddenly awake and burning. Her husband was holding her again. He was back from the dead and assuring her everything would be all right now. He was here to love and protect her, and he promised he would never leave her again.

… as she let her eyes close.

Could it be real? Was she dreaming? Had the last year been just a horrific nightmare? She kept her eyes closed when she felt him slowly lift her hair off her neck. Cool lips kissed her on the delicate skin below her ear before they softly sucked the tender spot just the way she liked it. Against her will she felt her nipples harden as her body roused to old feelings and old memories. Anticipating her response his hand had already slipped under the edge of her shirt to cup her breast, urging her on by sharpening the spikes of pleasure.

Over the course of their three-year marriage, Malachi had learned all her sensitive spots. He knew what order to set off her triggers to get the response he wanted. Maybe she was in their bed dreaming sleeping peacefully next to her husband who was now slowly kissing her awake in the middle of the night to make love to her again. Maybe his death had been a horrible mistake. Could she have been so terribly wrong?

Without conscious thought her hands glided around his waist to test the hard muscles she found there before sliding upward to rest against his arms. He groaned with approval right before she felt the pain from his teeth as they sliced through the flesh on her neck. _That wasn't so bad, _she thought. She even moaned softly when she felt his mouth close around the wound and begin to suck while his hand slid down her back to press her body urgently against his, chest to chest, stomach to stomach, groin to groin.

_Please God, let it all be just a bad dream_, she thought again.

But reality has a way of cutting its own path. Her dream abruptly ended to reveal her waking nightmare that was holding her in a death grip as he screamed with pain and anger.

Alex opened her eyes to find Malachi's demonic mouth burnt black and smoking from the fire within. He roared with pain again before screaming, "YOU BITCH! I should have known! Should have remembered what a good Catholic girl you are."

A steady voice suddenly spoke up from beyond the doorway to the saloon. "Yes, you should have. But you never did strike me as a big thinker."

Malachi turned to find Angel standing behind him. He nodded once to his bodyguards who immediately jumped to protect their senior member. Content that his minions would protect him, he turned back around to vent more of his anger at Alex. "If you think he'll be able to help you, you're wrong." He pulled her in closer and kissed her hard on the mouth. "We'll continue this later, my love." Then he picked her up over his head and tossed her in the direction of the bar.

Alex hit the glass shelves, the multiple bottles of liquor they held and the large mirror behind the bar. There was a tremendous crash as her body bounced off the hard material and fell to the floor behind the bar. The chiming rain of glass as it showered down around her was the last sound she heard right before her world went black.

* * *

**A/N - Wow, what a hard chapter to write. Please leave me a review and let me know what you thought about it. Thanks for reading. The next chapter will be up in about 10 days. **

**Bluemousey **


	40. Time to Pay the Piper

**Chapter 39 – Time to Pay the Piper **

When she first opened her eyes the world around her was without sound. Silent air flooded her senses, pressing against her eyes, nose and ears. At first her mute world lent her a false dream-like-state, keeping her, for the moment, calm, serene and numb. She felt like she was floating and all the obstacles around her were floating as well.

She rolled from her side onto her back and watched with fascination as the remaining bottles of liquor lining the back of the bar rocked back and forth. She knew she should be hearing the clinking of glass against glass as several bottles bumped against each other, but she was still rapped in a cocoon.

Sound wasn't the only thing lacking in her senses, she couldn't feel a damn thing. Lying on the floor behind the bar, she remembered quite well how Malachi had picked her up like a rag doll and tossed her into the bottles and glass shelves. She should be feeling a lot of pain now, but for some reason she wasn't.

Suddenly, a chair sailed over her line of vision. It hit the rocking bottles exploding them on impact. Alex quickly shaded her eyes as she felt the particles of glass rain down around her. How strange it was to see the chair hit its target but the lack of sound made it seem less real somehow.

There was a strong vibration as something large landed against the bar and when she turned her head in that direction she saw a man's hand and arm reach back, latch onto the inside rim of the mahogany wood for just a moment before letting go and disappearing from her sight. That hand and arm looked suspiciously like Spike's.

_Spike? Bloody hell!_ She completely forgot about Spike fighting without her to help him. And didn't she see Angel arrive just before she took her first, and hopefully last, flying lesson? She struggled to sit up and noticed for the first time she was sitting in a pool of blood. _Who's bleeding?_ She reached out and lightly touched the colorful puddle with two fingers, brought them up to her nose and sniffed. Nope, can't smell either. _Oh well_, she thought. _Might as well get on with it._

When she stood on her feet a bullet smashed a bottle of scotch to her right. Surprisingly, the heavy fumes from the liquor soaked through her stunned world. Accompanying the return of her sense of smell was pain, sharp and white hot. After that came the noise.

Several guns were being fired from directly inside the saloon. She quickly located the source and saw Virgil with a shotgun in his hands. Where he had procured the weapon she didn't know, but he was using it without hesitation. One of Malachi's lackeys took both barrels in the back. He fell forward, through the saloon front door and onto the wooden walkway out front.

The second gun blasts belonged to Doc, who stood behind and slightly to the right of Virgil. He stood directly in front of Allie, clearly protecting her while covering Virgil's back at the same time. Allie sat at Doc's feet with her legs drawn up to her chest and her arms around her head. Tears streamed down her face. Next to her sat Josie, wide-eye and stunned. In her hands she held a handkerchief that she had managed to shred with her nails. Although it was distressing to see her friends so upset, Alex felt a fleeting moment of relief to know they were out of harm's way and protected as she continued to assess the battle.

From beyond the saloon door she saw Angel fighting the other vampires Malachi had brought with him. Defending his back were Wyatt and Morgan who were both shooting at something just out of her line of vision. Their struggle prevented Malachi from leaving. He was trapped in front by Virgil and Doc and blocked from retreating by Angel and the Earp brothers. But that situation was about to change. Spike had taken it upon himself to fight Malachi and even though he fought with the best of his ability he was very quickly losing ground.

Alex stepped through the glass and around to the front of the bar. The last four members of the Oriental's clientele, including the woman bitten by Curly Bill, raced past her and toward the backdoor. She hoped they would be safer on the outside of the saloon then they had been on the inside. She proceeded to the middle of the room, but was too late to help Spike who took a blow to the face, knocking him backward over a table. He landed hard and lay unconscious several feet away from where Allie and Josie crouched.

Virgil dropped the shotgun and drew his gun as he stepped forward to confront Malachi. He aimed, fired and hit Malachi in the shoulder. Two more shots followed Virgil's when Doc backed the lawman's play. Unfortunately, Doc only managed to knick Malachi in the arm, giving the vampire an opportunity to grab Virgil by the arm and toss him. Alex heard the sickening sound of the bones in his arm snap right before Virgil yelled with pain and landed in a pile next to Spike.

With Virgil and Spike out of his way Malachi turned his attention back to Doc who was frantically reloading his pistols.

"Doc Holliday," Malachi grinned wildly, "how about you and I finish what we started. I would just hate to leave you intact and able to continue fucking my wife." He took a step forward and never saw the chair Alex threw until it was too late. The wood splintered into several pieces when it hit his head, momentarily dazing him. When he turned around she was ready for him.

"Malachi, dearest, I want a divorce." Alex declared.

She punched him squarely in the face. His head rocked back but the blow had very little affect. He blinked twice and then smiled. "Catholics don't divorce, Alex." He replied casually.

"I'm sure the Pope will make an exception for me." She grabbed a piece of the broken chair and attempted to stab him through the heart but he blocked her with the side of his arm while swinging his free hand at her face.

Alex leaned backward, averting his blow, but the movement sent a burst of pain through her side and she lost her balance giving him an opening to grab her by the wrist. He jerked her forward and another bolt of pain ran across her side and chest. _Broken ribs_, she thought as she twisted her body around toward his, brought up her arm and elbowed him in the face twice before he released her.

Malachi stumbled backward and would have quickly recovered if Alex hadn't kicked him as hard as she could between the legs. His face turned a wonderful shade of red as he swayed slightly on unsteady legs. He admitted a faint, high pitched groan and just as he began to double over Alex brought her knee up and slammed it into his face. Then she stepped back and watched as he sank to his knees.

She knelt down beside him and spoke to him in a calm clear voice. "I was eaten with guilt after you died. Do you want to know why?" She paused a moment for dramatic effect. "I was going to leave you Malachi."

"No." He managed to squeak.

"Yep, that's right, love. I finally had enough of your selfish behavior. I was never enough for you, was I? You always wanted more. My love never satisfied you. But then you died, and I felt so guilty because I was finally free." As she spoke she was vaguely aware of Doc standing by her side listening to every word she said.

"I loved you so, Malachi. I gave you my heart and soul but you never cherished me, not the way I cherished you." She heard him chuckle softly as he raised his head to look up at her.

"I valued you above all else, Alex, and look what it got me, soulless and lost for all eternity."

She was shocked. How could he blame her for being turned? "What happened that night, Malachi? What happened to you?" She asked against her will.

He responded with more laughter. She would have pressed him for answer but a movement from the doorway of the saloon caught her attention. From the corner of her eye she saw Doc start to raise his gun.

"I wouldn't if I were you Holliday." A demonic Billy Breckinridge stood in the doorway with a gun in each hand.

Doc lowered his arm and Breckinridge laughed. "You always did strike me as a smart man, Holliday. Now step back, both of you."

Doc grabbed her by the arm and hauled her to her feet as he took several steps backward.

Malachi swayed on unsteady legs as he struggled to stand. Then he glared at her as he went through the motions of straightening his clothing and dignity. "We'll continue this conversation at another time, Alex." His voice was low and tightly controlled. "I have a surprise for you that I think will change your feelings about me." Slowly he walked backward toward the door. Before he exited he addressed Doc one last time. "I won't forget about you Holliday. You can be sure of that."

"You should have staked him when you had the chance, pet."

She turned and saw Spike had witness the entire scene. Slowly she nodded her head. "You're right, but I needed answers." She turned away from him and looked at her lover. One look in his eyes told her all she needed to know. There would be no reconciliation or forgiveness from Doc Holliday. "Well, now you know the truth. I guess there's really nothing else to say, is there?"

His eyes narrowed as his temper took control. "No, there really isn't." He abruptly turned away from her and went to help Allie who had been holding her unconscious husband.

"I best go look for Angel." Spike announced.

"Wait, I'll go with you." Alex said as she looked around the room for her vest and handgun. She found they had been kicked underneath a table. As she bent down to retrieve them the full impact of her broken ribs made their presence known. She yelled sharply and sank to her knees.

"Alex?" Spike came quickly to her rescue. "What is it?"

"My ribs are broken." She hissed through clenched teeth as she rapped her arm around her waist.

His lips thinned as he considered this information. "You'd better stay here then. If I see the doctor along the way I'll send him here." He didn't wait for further instructions as he turned and ran out the door.

Moments after his departure Dr. Goodfellow and Father Martin entered the saloon. Goodfellow immediately went to work on Virgil, while Father Martin helped Alex stand and guided her to a chair.

Although the pain in her side seemed to consume her, Allie's tearful crying upset her more. She continued to sit on the floor with Virgil's head resting in her lap. His arm, which lay at an odd angle, was obviously badly broken. Dr. Goodfellow was doing his best to cut away Virgil's shirt so he could begin his examination.

She saw that Josie had managed to completely shred her handkerchief in her distress, but continued to keep close to Allie for support.

"What did you see outside Father?" She asked in a low voice so that Doc wouldn't over hear their conversation.

He inhaled deeply before replying. "There are several fends roaming the streets tonight, Alex. Your friend, Angel, was very busy defending the town as I approached."

She nodded as she considered this information. "And what of Wyatt and his brother Morgan?" While the priest answered her questions, Doc stood by Allie's side and glared at her with cold hatred. She returned his gaze with tear-filled eyes.

"They stood by his side during the fight. Even though their guns cannot kill the monsters it seemed to slow them down and wound them a great deal." He paused and turned concerned eyes on her. "Are you badly hurt, Alex? Is there anything I can do?"

_My dead husband just paid me a visit, other than that I'm fine._ "I'm not that bad off, Father. Please go sit with Allie and Virgil. They need you more than I do at the moment."

He nodded solemnly and went to do as she asked.

Milt finally appeared from his shelter under the bar. Until now she had not noticed his presence. She gave him a weak smile, relieved that he had not been hurt during the fight. He approached her with a clean towel to wipe the wound on her throat and the other cuts she had received from the glass, but Doc quickly held him back. He grabbed the towel from his hand before pushing the bartender away.

She stayed seated as Doc towered over her with a sinister expression on his face. His lips were tightly set and the muscles in his jaw clenched and unclenched at a furious pace. Without warning he pounced on her, and hauled her to her feet by the shoulders. His hands had very little pity in them as he held her tightly.

"You knew about this, didn't you?" He hissed so softly and with so much venom Alex began to fear him more than her encounter with Ringo earlier.

She nodded through the pain that racked her shoulders and her side.

"All along you knew what the threat was and who was doing it, and yet you said NOTHING! Why?!" His voice elevated to a roar before he lowered his face until it was just inches from hers. "Why?" He asked again and this time he shook her for good measure.

Alex whimpered as the pain from her ribs increased from his assault. "What would you have me say? Would you have believed a word I said, if I had confided in you?" She replied.

His hold on her shoulders only increased. "My friends are hurt because of you, Alex. My best friend's wife is dead because of you. This," he jerked his head to indicated the destruction of the room behind him, "is all your fault." Then he stepped to one side and jerked her bodily in the direction of Virgil. "That is your fault as well." He released her by shoving her back into the chair. "You should have warned us."

The well of tears that filled her eyes was now beyond her control. They coursed freely down her cheeks, mixing with the blood from her cuts and the bite wound on her neck. "I'm sorry. I tried… tried to help." She choked through her tears. "I'm so sorry, John."

To Doc it looked like she was crying blood tears. _Sacrificial tears_, he thought. _They only make her all the more beautiful_. One part of his heart wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, to tell her how frighten he had been when she willing slip into that demon's embrace. That for just a moment, when her fragile body struck all that glass and bounced to the floor, his world had dropped out from under his feet at the thought of her dying. In the pit of his stomach was a jumble of emotion. Fear. Sadness. Confusion. Anger. Love. Hate. All swirled into a cancerous mass in his gut until he felt like he could vomit.

_She lied to me._

Her confession of love to her monster husband had echoed his feelings for her. He loved her, and cherished her more than anyone or anything he had known since his mother's death. And now that he had tasted love of this magnitude he realized how desolate and miserable his life had been. _Had been?_ His world would return to its previous existence after tonight. Even though he could already feel the ache from his broken heart there was no way he could ever forgive her. When she continued to look up at him through her tears, he realized her heart was broken too.

"John, please." Alex moved to take his hand in hers but he jerked it beyond her reach.

Barely keeping his rising temper in check, he narrowed his eyes at her before tossing the bar towel in her face. "Clean up your own wounds Alex, and leave me to clean up mine." Then he turned his back on her and walked away.

Wyatt and Morgan returned just in time to see a tearful Alex run out the saloon door. Wyatt called after her but she ignored him and continued to run down the street.

"Do you want me to go after her, Wyatt?" Morgan asked.

Wyatt caught a glimpse of Doc's dark expression through the window and shook his head. "Best let it go for now."

"But…" Morgan hesitated as he searched for any sign of Alex's retreating form. "She could be hurt, Wyatt." He looked at his brother's heavy expression and knew what his answer would be.

"I realize that Morg, but we take care of our family first." He replied as he walked into the saloon.

The chaotic scene that met Wyatt when he entered the saloon took all of his reserved strength away. Suddenly, all he wanted to do was sit down and cry, but instead of giving into his weak emotions he squared his shoulders and stooped down to embrace his sister-in-law as she knelt on the floor and watched Dr. Goodfellow work on Virgil's arm.

"How bad is it?" Wyatt asked. He bit back a throat full of tears when Virgil turned his head to look over at him. The pain radiating from his face told Wyatt all he needed to know.

"Wyatt." He called with a strained voice. "Where's Morgan?" Even though he was in pain, Virgil was still playing the concerned big brother.

"I'm here, Virg." Morgan stepped forward so Virgil could see him. As he came in close he got his first glimpse of Virgil's badly mangled arm. Immediately, he felt the room move under his feet and bile rise to his throat. Quickly, Morgan covered his mouth and looked away.

Noticing his friend's reaction, Doc placed a comforting arm around his shoulders to help steady his emotions.

"His shoulder is dislocated, but that is the least of my worries." Dr. Goodfellow offered without looking away from his work. He had cut away the sleeve from Virgil's shirt and was now fastening a wooden board under his arm to act as a splint. "It's the torn ligaments in his elbow and the brake in the bones above his wrist that concern me the most. Both the radius and ulna are completely through the skin and disconnected from his hand." He signed heavily as he tied the finally cloth to secure the split. "I'm afraid you're going to lose the use of your arm Virgil.

Allie let out a sharp cry as she leaned in to kiss Virgil's face. "Don't worry Allie girl, I still have one good arm to hold you." Virgil had meant the words to be comforting but Allie only cried louder.

"What do you mean to do Doctor?" Wyatt asked.

"First I would like to get him home. After I put him to sleep with some chloroform, I will reposition his shoulder and try my best to set the bones in his arm. There is a strong chance of infection and he will have to be watched very closely." He reached into his bag and withdrew a vial and syringe. "Virgil, I'm going to give you a shot of morphine so we can transport you in relative comfort."

"Wait a minute, Doctor." Virgil asked as he looked again at Wyatt. "What about Alex? Is she hurt bad?"

"She's well enough to run off, Virg."

"What do you mean by run off? You didn't let her go off alone to fight those things did you?" He asked sharply. Allie quickly echoed her husband's fears.

"Don't worry about her now." Wyatt softly suggested to both of them.

"Wyatt, you need to go help her, damn it." Allie snapped. She looked first at her brother-in-law, and then she looked up at Doc. "Both of you should be ashamed of yourselves. She nearly got herself killed tonight trying to protect me and you as well." Her voice rose sharply with her anger. "And you," she hissed as she glared at Doc, "you pretend to love her and at the first sign of trouble what do you do? You cast her off like some kind of leper."

"She lied to me!" Doc snapped back. "She lied to you as well. Your husband's broken arm is a direct result of her lies."

"No Doc." Virgil corrected. "My arm is broken because I was doing my job. But I still have my life because Alex was doing hers."

"Enough." Dr. Goodfellow interjected. "All this talk can wait until you are out of danger, Mr. Earp." He slipped the tip of the needle in Virgil's uninjured shoulder and set the morphine to work.

Virgil blinked slowly as he felt the drug course through is body. "You need to take over for me, Wyatt. Have Morgan swear you in." Then he closed his eyes as he drifted off.

They procured a wagon to transport Virgil. Wyatt sent Josie home with Allie and Milt offered to go stand guard at the house for the rest of the night allowing Morgan, Wyatt and Doc the time to investigate the evening's events. Wyatt nodded with gratitude and gave Milt Virgil's shotgun to use.

"I won't be long." He told Allie as he helped her into the wagon. "You get inside and lock all the doors and window and I'll be there shortly."

Josie's tearful face was the last thing he saw as the wagon faded into the night. After he went back inside he turned to the priest who had been standing silently near by deep in prayer. "What do you know about all this, Padre?"

Father Martin took in the lawman's worried face and pain-filled eyes. He wanted to help ease his pain but…. "I'm sorry, Mr. Earp. That is a question you will have to save for Alexis. My alliance is to her and to God."

For just a moment, Wyatt felt angry enough to punch the priest in the face. He turned abruptly away as he struggled to control his temper. After a moment he felt the wave pass. "You best go home now Padre. Do you want one of us to go with you?"

Father Martin smiled and shook his head. "I walk with God. That is all the protection I need."

Wyatt watched in awe as he walked out the front door. "Shit, I hope he's right." He mumbled. "I have a feeling God is the only thing that can protect us now."

Morgan swore both men in as deputies before they sat down to hatch out a defensive plan. But before their conversation could begin, Doc wanted to secure the saloon. First he secured the front doors before he went to the backdoor in the kitchen to lock it as well. When he walked into the room the aroma of Alex's bath soap assaulted his senses. A sharp pain began in his chest that had nothing to do with his illness. Accompanying this pain was the first wave of tears.

_She lied to me_.

It was a thought that repeated again and again in his head. She lied, about everything. She had lied about who she was, where she was from, and why she was here. The foundation that their newly formed relationship rested upon came crumbling apart.

_She lied to me. Looked me straight in the face and lied! She even lied to me while lying in my bed. How the fuck do I justify that? _

Doc looked around the kitchen and realized he had spent many happy moments sitting in this room talking with Alex. His eyes fell on the pile of dishtowels stacked neatly on the counter. Poking out from underneath was a piece of pink lace. Without thinking he walked over and pulled it free. It was the apron she had teased him so shamelessly with that day she finally broken down and allowed him to get close to her. All along, she had been trying to maintain a discreet distance, and he had been pushing against her boundaries the entire time. Had she set those boundaries in place to protect him and her friendship with the Earps? He had pushed her and seduced her and by doing so he had might have compromised her position. But knowing this did little to sooth his anger.

Still clutching the apron in one hand, he went to lock the backdoor and noticed a horse standing calmly outside. Tied to the saddle was a dark cloth bag. Not thinking about the danger he could be in, he stepped outside and secured the horse to a post and then he untied the bag. The bag had a good deal of weight to it. He wondered what could be inside and who it might belong to as he carried into the kitchen.

Wyatt met him inside. "What's that?" He asked.

Without looking up from the bag Doc replied, "Don't know. It was tied to a horse outback." He turned it around in the air as he struggled to get a better look but the light in the kitchen was too poor. "Let's take it into the saloon where the lighting is better." He suggested as he moved toward the door.

"Do you plan on wearing an apron while you examine the bag?" Wyatt asked with just a hint of humor.

"I…uh." Doc fumbled as he looked down at the pink and white cloth he was still clutching in his hand. He had completely forgotten he was holding it. _Alex._ Her name seemed to echo in his head. Instinctively he started to raise his hand to his face to breath in her lingering scent but stopped when he saw Wyatt studying him with interest. With a flick of his wrist he sent the apron sailing back to the counter. "I need a drink." He declared.

Wyatt placed his hand on his friend's thin shoulder. "Doc, I'm sorry."

"You're a damn good lawman, Wyatt, too good. I wish with all my heart your instincts had been wrong about her."

"Things may not be what they seem, Doc. After we talk things over, we'll need to go find her and make her explain."

Doc nodded as his eyes fell on the staircase to her room. "Perhaps she left some clues behind." He quickly made his way up the steps as Wyatt followed.

The odor of her bath soap was stronger in her room and band of pain tighten a notch more in Doc's chest. He looked about and found nothing extraordinary out of place. Her bed was neatly made. Her room was dust free, and not one personal item was left in the open to reveal any trace of her having spent the last two and half weeks sleeping there. Looking about the naked room, Doc thought if it wasn't for the aroma of her bath soap, it was almost as if she hadn't been here at all.

He opened the truck at the end of her bed and found only one dress and two blankets. Where were her combs and brushes? Where were her hair ties and pins? Where were her face creams and cosmetics? Surely she would have purchased some basic necessities for her day-to-day personal care. He knew he was not much of a ladies man, but he had spent several years with Kate and would wager every woman own an arsenal of feminine wares, but he couldn't even find a trace of her bath soap except for what still lingered in the air. In short, he couldn't find one personal item that revealed anything private about Alex.

"Wyatt…" Doc started to ask.

"Yeah, I know. Not one damn clue or personal possession left behind. It's as if she hadn't been here at all." He walked over to the bed and ran his hand under each pillow and found nothing. "Let's take a look at that bag."

Once downstairs they gathered several lamps, three glasses and one large bottle of scotch. Morgan poured each of them a drink while Doc struggled to open the black bag.

The construction of the bag was like nothing he had ever seen before. The first thing he noticed was the material it was made from. It was lightweight but seemed to be incredibly strong, and created from a fiber Doc had never seen before. It wasn't cotton or wool, nor was it leather. He ran his fingers over the cloth and was amazed at the slippery texture and the tight consistent weave of the fabric. There was no outward design or markings of any kind. The strap on the bag was long enough for the owner to fasten over one shoulder and the only clasp he saw – if indeed it was a clasp – was a black strip of metal running lengthwise on the top of the bag.

"What the hell…" He mumbled. He reached for the little black tab that dangled off one end and pulled. The bag began to open. Doc stopped and looked up at both of his companions and then he pulled on the tab harder.

Morgan laughed with delight. "How clever." He watched with further glee as Doc pulled the tab back the opposite way and the clasp closed again.

"Very clever." Doc agreed as he pulled it open and closed again. When he leaned forward to get a better look at the mechanics of the clasp he caught a whiff of Alex's scent. He raised the bag to his face and breathed deeply. "It's hers." He whispered to himself.

"Who?" Wyatt asked.

"Alex. This is her bag. It smells like her." He declared firmly. He sniffed the bag again for good measure. "Mother fuck…" He cursed with renewed anger, and in one motioned pulled the tab down and dumped out the entire contents of the bag.


	41. A Guardian Revealed

**Chapter 40 – A Guardian Revealed**

An array items fanned across the table between them. Most of them were fairly normal in appearance. Here was her comb and brush. There lay a hair tie. But next to it was a rectangle metal case that contained a large round of ammunition. Obviously, the bullets were meant for a gun, but what kind of gun? Was it the gun she carried tonight? But what purpose did the metal case serve?

It was the contrasting items that began to disturb Doc. He had expected to see the normal feminine wares that all women would pack in a travel bag. And although most of her items were strange looking, it was almost a relief to see them. What he didn't expect was the arsenal of weapons mixed with the normal feminine contents. With trepidation, Doc reached for a long, very pointy, wooden stake, and held it up for Wyatt and Morgan to see. "I can now see why she didn't want help finding her stolen bag." He sneered.

"I don't think her bag was ever stolen. Most likely her story was a ploy to get close to us." Wyatt offered.

Doc cast him an irritated glance and raised one eyebrow. "Wyatt, you of all people should know I am far from gullible, nor am I, unfortunately, drunk at the moment."

"Sorry. I was thinking out loud." He gestured to the stake. "She used a stake like that one tonight, didn't she?"

Doc nodded. "Not just one, but two, and with extreme efficiency I might add. She also used the same gifted technique with these darts." He lifted one dart and fingered the smooth, hard, wooden surface. Not only did Alex's bag contain wooden stakes and darts, but she also carried a gold cross, a large bottle of holy water, and a dozen or more communion wafers. "I can only speculate what she would use these for." He mumbled to himself.

The more Doc looked the more he wished he had never found this blasted bag. "Why Alex? What purpose does all of this serve?" He wondered out loud as he opened a small cloth bag and found a supply of lavender and sage.

There were many other items he was unable to identify. All three men looked at one another as they slowly began to examine one item after another.

"Look at her keys." Wyatt said as he held them up for Doc to see. "I've never seen keys like this before. What do you think this does?" He held a small square item in his hand that was attached to the key ring. "It says lock and unlock. I'll be damned."

Morgan was studying a small bag that had the same kind of clasp as the black bag. He pulled against the tab as Doc had done, and found another treasure inside. "Doc, I think this will interest you the most." He handed over the small bag to Doc.

Immediately after taking the bag, Doc noticed the sharp smell of mint. He reached inside and pulled out a toothbrush. But this brush was unlike any he had ever seen. The color of the handle was shocking. It was orange and constructed from a strange material that was neither metal nor wood. He ran his thumb over the brush head and realized that the bristles were not made of animal hair, but were actually constructed from some kind of synthetic material. The other items in the bag were strange as well. There was a container of paste and when he removed the lid and squeezed a small amount onto the tip of his finger the smell of mint grew stronger. Then he tasted it and found it to be very pleasant tasting. The container was covered in writing so he held it up to the light and began to read the words out loud. "Complete care. Cleans. Whitens. Freshens. Fluoride Anti-Cavity Toothpaste." He turned the container over and continued to read silently.

Wyatt and Morgan continued to poke through the pile of Alex's possession. Picking up one object of wonder only to exchange it with another when Doc interrupted their exploration with a string of curses. "This is some kind of trick." He exclaimed as he passed the paste to Wyatt. "It says the contents are patented.

"You think she had this created to deceive us? To what purpose, Doc?"

He sighed with frustration. "I don't know what to think anymore." He looked down at the object he held. "This says 'dental floss', Wyatt. I've never seen dental instruments like this before."

There were other things that spilled from her bag that were equally strange. She had several strange looking ink pens that held their own supply of ink. One pen even contained blue ink. Doc put the pen down and reached for another container only this one held a fragrant hand cream. And then he saw the small bottle of her bath soap. He loosened the cap and sniffed and was immediately reminded of the occasion when he had almost seduced her right in front of the stove. She had smelled so good to him that night. At the time he had thought it was the alcohol that had distorted his perception, but later he realized she had probably just bathed. On the heels of that thought came an even more disturbing one – she had been bathing in her bedroom over the bar, while he had spent the greater part of the afternoon in the saloon below drinking and thinking of her. After tonight he imagined he would have lots of time to drink and think of Alex, but that thought gave him no pleasure.

He put the bath soap down and reached for a small box that had the word '_tampons'_ on the outside and after several minutes looking at the small tubular shapes and then reading the box, Doc quickly dropped it, wiped his hands against his trousers and laughed. When Wyatt looked at him strangely, Doc nodded to the box and replied, "Menstruation containment apparatus."

Doc laughed again when Wyatt made face and made no effort to examine the box. "None of this makes sense, Wyatt."

"What about this, Doc?" Morgan asked with a grin. "Now this even I can understand." He held up both of his hands and dangling from each index finger was a pair of Alex's panties. "Have you ever in you life seen anything as delicate as this? Look at how thin the straps are. I bet it hardly covers much of anything."

Wyatt reached out and took one panty from Morgan and spread the lace between his two hands. "Now this would surpass even apron night." He heard Morgan laugh in agreement.

Doc grinned as he remembered how easily the straps on Alex's underwear could be torn. He reached out and took both pairs in one hand. One pair was a lovely shade of rose and the other a soft yellow. Both were decorated with thin strips of lace and satin. As he placed both panties in his jacket pocket he seriously doubted he would get another chance to rip her underwear off her sensual body.

Suddenly, anger and hot tears threatened to over take him. He wondered why his life was so hard and difficult. Why did God constantly deny him the simple pleasures that other people took for granted. Where was the justice in leaving him broken, alone and unwell? The emotional pain in his chest flared and he swallowed hard as he stood up abruptly from the table and walked to the front door. Tears he had been holding back suddenly let lose and he quickly reached for his handkerchief before his friends noticed his weakness.

Without realizing what he was doing he grabbed a chair and threw it against the wall as he screamed out his anguish to God and the entire heavenly host. The chair splintered into a several pieces as it rained down over the floor. _Just like me_, Doc thought. _I am the chair and my life is the wall._

"Doc?" Wyatt timidly asked.

He quickly turned away and wiped his face again as he kept his back turned. He couldn't face Wyatt just yet. If he looked into his friend's kind blue eyes he'd be bawling like a baby. "I wanted her, Wyatt, wanted her so much more than I have ever wanted anything in my life." He felt Wyatt's strong, warm hand on his shoulder, and was thankful, thankful that Wyatt understood.

"Give it time, John and try to have a little faith. A lot took place tonight but things might still turn out for the better. I know Alex loves you, there's no denying that."

Doc sniffed and wiped his face again before he turned around. "You have more faith then most people Wyatt. I'm sorry to say I lost my faith a long, long time ago."

When he sat back down at the table he quickly filled his glass, emptied it in one swallow and prayed for the alcoholic numbness to take him quickly. "Well, let's get on with our investigation. What other wonders does Miss. Montgomery have to show us tonight?" He sighed with frustration as he reached for what he imagined was her wallet. When he opened it and looked inside he was suddenly very glad he was sitting down. Nothing in it was what he expected.

The design of the money inside was completely new to him. He fanned out a handful of the crisp newly printed bills as he quickly counted several hundred dollars. But his real shock came when he notice the year the money was printed. They were all minted in the year 2002. With a shaky hand he reached for his glass again, hoping another dose of scotch would steady his nerves, but found his glass was empty. He cursed softly under his breath and continued to look at her wallet.

Even the business cards inside were like nothing he had ever seen before. He found a small business card size item that caught his attention. He pulled it free and held it near the lamp. It was another colored photograph only this was just a small headshot of Alex. What took his breath away was the writing on the surface. His fingers froze and the card slipped his grasp and fell to the table.

"Doc?" Wyatt asked when he saw the color drain from his face. He reached for the small card his friend had dropped.

"Look at the dates Wyatt." Doc said as he filled his glass again.

"Christ." He exclaimed. "This is impossible or a bad joke."

"Maybe." Doc said uneasily.

"What's DOB?" Wyatt asked as he read the card.

"Date of birth." Morgan chirped without thinking.

"What? Morgan, why would you say that?" Wyatt asked as he passed the card back to Doc.

Confusion flashed across his face as his head tilted a little to one side. "I'm not sure. It just slipped out."

"Well if that's true, then my little cook was born in the year 1978. The nineteenth of December, in the year 1978, to be precise." He passed the card to Morgan so he could also examine it.

"Maybe it's not her. The last name is different." Wyatt suggested.

"That's her married name, Wyatt. She told me so. Mrs. Malachi McCulloch, of Portland, Maine."

"Living at 328 Whitehall Drive, Portland, Maine." Morgan clarified. He handed the card back to Doc.

"What else is inside?" Wyatt prompted.

Doc pulled free several pictures and began to pass them around. "Her wedding day." He offered as he handed Wyatt another photo.

"And in color too." Wyatt exclaimed. He could clearly see the colors in the groom's attire. Malachi stood holding Alex's hand dressed in a Scottish kilt. His face looked alive and flushed with happiness as he gazed down at his new bride. It was a stark contrast to the deathly pale demon that confronted them earlier that night. "They look so happy."

Alex's wedding gown would have made any woman sigh with envy. It was made of satin and lace and covered heavily in white beads. The long train of her dress wrapped around her feet and was spread out in front to fan across the floor. Standing on the other side of Malachi stood another man in identical dress that resembled Malachi in appearance and coloring. "This other man must be a brother, I suppose." Wyatt mumbled. "And the man and woman next to Alex must be her parents."

Doc grunted with a mouthful of scotch. He swallowed quickly and replied, "Not likely. Alex told me her parents were killed when she was thirteen. I suppose that must be her aunt and uncle. Unless of course, she lied about that as well." The next photo Doc found he immediately snapped upright for Wyatt to view. "Ah, the photo pinned to my closet door."

Wyatt eyes widen slightly as he took the photo from Doc. "Yep, this is the same guy in her wedding photo and the S.O.B who came in here tonight. What do you make of her clothing, Doc?" He passed the photo to Morgan who immediately gave a low whistle when he saw Alex's bare legs.

"I say all women should dress like this." Morgan offered with a grin.

"That will be enough out of you, sir." Doc replied in a tight voice as he took back the photo. "The clothing is as odd in this photo as in the others. As for speculating on a cause or reason…" He shrugged lightly before running his hand over his mustache. "Only Miss. Montgomery will be able to answer that."

Doc continued to fan through her photos and stopped to examine one that caught his attention. "I believe these are Alex's parents."

It was a small photo of a man and woman sitting on a large boulder near the sea. They were both smiling at the camera and the man had wrapped his arm over the woman's shoulders, which was clearly an affectionate gesture. Both had fair complexions. The man had sandy blonde hair but the woman was a slightly older version of Alex with the same graceful build, long blonde hair and green eyes. He turned the photo over and read the inscription. "Alexander and Marie Montgomery, June 1989, Maine."

"This was taken two years before they died." He passed the photo to Wyatt as he tried to ignore the wave of guilt that suddenly washed over him. "I don't have a good feeling about all of this, Wyatt."

"What do you mean?" Wyatt asked without looking away from the photo.

"Alex told me her parents were killed when she was thirteen. If you do the math, then that photo was taken when she would have been about eleven. Her parents look to be the right age to have an eleven year old daughter, and that woman is the splitting image of Alex. Christ, even their first names make sense. Alexis was derived from her father's Christian name, and Marie is her middle name taken from her mother. And then there is their clothing to consider." He gestured to the photo that Wyatt held. "Their manner of dress is a stark contrast to our clothing. Look closely at the jacket her father is wearing. The clasp is exactly like the clasp on this bag. If this is a con or a hoax it is the most elaborate one I have ever seen. So, logically, if I am to take the dates, names and clothing at face value," he pointed to the photo Wyatt held, "then this has got to be real."

"But that would mean…that, uh, she is…" Wyatt shuttered

"…from the future." Doc clarified for him. "Wyatt, I'm…hell, I don't know." He leaned back in the chair and rubbed his tired eyes. "Truthfully, I don't know what to think or feel anymore."

Wyatt passed his hand over the color photo as he thought about one possible explanation. "Do you think she could be ill and just created this elaborate fantasy?"

Doc shrugged. "Yes, I suppose she could be ill, which does nothing to soften my anger. The only thing I can think about right now if finding her and beating the truth out of her."

Wyatt wasn't convinced but he kept his opinions to himself for now. Doc wasn't in the mood to be open to suggestions, nor was he being very reasonable at the moment.

Wyatt passed the photo to Morgan who looked at it briefly before reaching for another funny looking device that had captured his attention. He turned it around in his hand before it flipped open to reveal a flat surface and several numbers in numerical order. "My God…" He cried. "Take a look at this." He held his hand out for both men to see. "What is it, Wyatt?"

Wyatt could only shake his head. "I haven't a clue Morgan." He hesitantly reached out with one finger and touched the item. When he pushed one of the numbers nothing happened.

"What purpose could this device have?" Doc asked his friends but both men only shook their heads.

Doc growled. "I don't understand!" He shouted to the only person who could end his confusion but she couldn't hear him now. Frustrated, he grabbed the bag and threw it against the wall. There was a loud thud as it made contact with the wall and then another when hit the floor.

"There's something still inside." He jumped to retrieve the bag and quickly reached inside. "It's a journal." He held the leather bound book up for Wyatt and Morgan to see. "Finally, some answers." He said with satisfaction.

No wonder he had miss finding the journal. The black leather cover of the five by eight inch book had blended with the black cloth of her bag. Apparently, when he turned the bag upside-down it must have gotten stuck inside. Doc sat back down at the table with Morgan and Wyatt hovering over either shoulder.

He opened the journal to the first page to see if it might be inscribed. Sure enough, Alex had marked the book for identification, but what he read there only increased his confusion.

_Alexis M. McCulloch  
__Guardian Journal #7_

"Guardian? That thing that looked like her husband also referred to her as a Guardian. What does that mean?" He asked Wyatt.

Wyatt thought for a moment as he stared at the written words. "I have no idea, Doc. People write in journals for different reasons, Doc. Women might keep a day-to-day account of their lives, perhaps marking the illness of loved ones, visits from neighbors, or the health of a crop, but this doesn't look like that kind of journal." He reached out to lightly touch the writing as if tactile contact might help him find some answers. "Guardian," he pondered, "sounds like some sort of official title. Virgil used to keep a journal when he was marshaling."

"He still does, Wyatt." Morgan verified.

Wyatt nodded. "That's what this reminds me of. It has the same format."

"But what does she mean by 'Guardian'?" Doc pressed.

Wyatt sighed loudly. "It makes sense, if you think about it for a moment, Doc. If Alex were acting on some official capacity while she was here then she would want to keep a log. Guardian could be her position or title. Like Marshall and Assistant Marshall. "

"Do you still think she's our figure in black?" Doc asked in strained voice.

"Yes, I do."

"Well, let's find out what she has to say."

Doc fanned the pages and found that three quarters of the book was filled with Alex's steady scripted hand. The dated entry on the first page started in August of the year 2001, which only stirred the uneasy feeling in his stomach more. Was it another reference to the future? Could she actually be referring to the year two thousand and one? Perhaps it was a code of some sort. He turned to several other pages and found the dates where consecutive, spanning over some thirteen months, until several weeks ago then the year suddenly changed to 1881.

He heard Wyatt exclaim, "I'll be God damn." He too was in awe of the year. "Is it some kind of trick?"

"Maybe, but she could also be completely insane." Doc answered. He turned quickly to the last entry. "This was written early this morning while I was sleeping. It appears she's been counting the days since her arrival. The last entry is marked day 17. Listen to what she wrote …

'_After a tragedy of errors I hope I'm finally back on track. Angel and Spike arrived yesterday. Already Angel's sharp mind and determined attitude have lifted my spirits. At his request, Spike has procured a survey map of the mines in the area. We will systematically mark each mine I have sterilized to see which ones remain a hazard and to see if we can ascertain if there is a pattern to Malachi's movements. _

_Since we strongly suspect the vampires may be nesting somewhere on or near the Clanton ranch, we hope the maps will reveal possible caves or locations of mines that I am unaware of.' _

_Last night was my first sighting of Malachi since my arrival to this time. He has attacked Doc again. Fortunately, he was at the Oriental when Malachi broke into his room. Mal was pissed when he found the room empty. He torn the bedding to shreds and pinned the last photo taken of us together to Doc's closet door. Another warning for me, I guess. As Malachi was leaving Doc's room I was approaching and saw him jump down from the second floor. I gave chase but he got away. _

_Doc continues to slowly uncover my truth. I should walk away from him and not look back but find I am unable to. Last night he proposed marriage. He'll never know how much his offer cut me to the deepest part of my soul. I can't help but think how quickly he will regret his desire for me when he finds out I've been lying to him the entire time. _

There it was – a confession written in her own hand. Finally, a plausible answer to the destruction of his room and the mysterious photo left behind, but the answer gave Doc no peace. No, instead of peace he found he was only more disturbed by the events. _Damn her_. She had been protecting him and that was why she had lied. He traced her words with one finger. But what did she mean by _'attacked again'_? There was a deep seated mystery wrapped around her. One so much more complicated then he had ever imagined.

On the heels of his unease was a profound feeling of joy. His marriage proposal had affected her more than she let on. Even though her words were ones of sadness, regret and unease, he could tell she had been very close to accepting him. His affections had not been misplaced or rejected because she didn't care for him. On the contrary, she had only been acting in an honorable manner knowing that she couldn't, or wouldn't, advance their relationship any further when she had been deceiving him. Still, the question remained, was she lying because she lived in a fantasy world or was she concocting some elaborate hoax? Or, God help them, could she really be telling the truth? His thoughts were disrupted when Wyatt began to comment on the contents of her entry.

"Vampires? Is that what we saw tonight? But aren't they supposed to be just a fairy story?"

Doc issued a cold cynical smile. "Not according to Alex." Then he flipped backward several pages. "This entry was two days ago."

_Finally, a moment to myself, and time to wash and change my clothes. So much has happened in the last few hours. I must write this down while events are fresh in my mind._

_Things have progressively gotten worst. The Clantons and Johnny Ringo have been turned, which probably means that most of the Cowboy gang as been turned as well. And just when I thought things couldn't get worse, we had a visit from Sheriff Behan this morning that I won't soon forget. The renowned sheriff is on his way to becoming a member of the walking dead. Funny term if you think about it, but not so funny when you see it for yourself. I'm not sure if he had been a willing participant of Malachi's activities or if the poor man was forced to become involved. But at sometime during the last week, Malachi or one of the others has been feeding Behan vampire blood. I have personally never witness this supernatural transformation, but have only been instructed about it while in training. I was taught this is a form of control used on a human so the master vampire can have a daylight servant to be his eyes and ears. At first, the victim will feel exhilarated by the transfusion and willing drinks the second and third time from the host, but as the feeding progresses the body is slowly overcome by the demonic forces the blood contains and a fight ensues for control. The living flesh will slowly rot taking with it all mental and emotional sanity leaving behind a zombie. The vampire is able to then control this poor soul who is now trapped between two worlds. Once the zombie has fulfilled his purpose he or she is usually discarded. _

_The problem for a Guardian is a zombie is just as dangerous as a vampire because they are extremely volatile and unpredictable. Oh, and one more thing…they also smell like 3-day old road kill. _

_I managed to get rid of Behan and not blow my cover by tossing a cluster of lavender and sage on him. He screamed in pain and ran out the door. Now I must find him and put an end to his misery._

_Other than wanting to see his lost love, I'm not exactly sure what Behan was looking for when he came into the saloon. My guess would be that he was looking for Doc to see if Malachi's bite was as detrimental as it was suppose to be. Knowing Malachi as I do, he would want to be thorough and make sure Doc was out of the picture. I am curious if Malachi considers Doc a greater threat then Wyatt and his brothers and that was why he struck at him in such a way. Or perhaps, my dear late husband intends to return tonight and finish the job. God help us, and me, if Doc Holliday is turned into a vampire. My heart would never survive the pain and loss. I must make sure his room is protected or that he is never left alone at night. _

_Hopefully, Malachi will not attempt to enter the saloon. If he does, it would mean an outright war and that he is more than ready to fight. Up till now, we have been playing cat and mouse games. He knows I'm here but he continues to hide. Where he is hidden is the key that will allow me to end this. The Clanton ranch is now my prime goal. I will look there as soon as I am able to get away from the saloon. My illusion is a blessing and a curse. I am able to move about and investigate in the open, but I am also watched and protected by Doc and the others. How ironic that they should feel I am the one who needs protection._

_More than likely the Earps were expected at the Clanton ranch this afternoon. Thank God they decided to 'visit' during the day this time. Maybe Ike Clanton's encounter scared them enough to discourage them from wandering around in the dark. _

_One other note worthy item to mention: Behan delivered a message while he visited today. He told me Malachi would be coming for me. I think my illusion within the Oriental will soon come crashing down. When it does, I will not only be exposing my new friends to more danger, but will also lose my new lover as well. When Doc finds out I've been deceitful he will hate me for sure. _

_I wonder if it would help cushion the blow if he knew I loved him, or would it only make the betrayal worst for him later._

"Behan a zombie? Vampires and zombies too?" Wyatt wondered.

From far off Doc heard Wyatt's comment, but what was ringing through his head was her words. …_if he knew I loved him_. The tightness in his chest increase and he felt the warm flush of fresh tears again. _Alex is in love with me_. But this proclamation brought him no closer to a conclusion. _She loves me but she lied to me as well_.

Wyatt rubbed his hand over his face. "God almighty, what a fucking puzzle. So that thing that came in here tonight is her dead husband newly turned into a vampire, and to make matters worse he's slowly taking over the town by turning the cowboy gang into monsters too. Alex is here on some official capacity to track him down and, what, kill him or find away to restore him?"

Doc was again stunned by Wyatt's reasoning. This was an entire different perspective that he would never have thought of. _Obviously, I'm too emotionally involved to think clearly._ "Wyatt, sometimes you frighten me."

"Well, don't be. All I'm saying is things are finally starting to make sense. Still, she should have tried to warn us. People were hurt. And then there's Mattie…what if she is…" He quickly shook his head at the thought. "My God how many others have been killed or turned into one of those things. And, apparently this creature called Malachi tried to get at you Doc, not once, but twice. She said you were bitten. It is true, were you bitten?"

Before Doc could deny the allegation, he felt a chill run up his spine accompanied by a suppressed memory of a dark drunken night alone in his room when a bad dream had frightened him almost to the point of screaming. He lightly rubbed his arm and readjusted his coat sleeve. "Nonsense, Wyatt. The girl is delusional."

Wyatt noticed his friend's shaky response but wisely kept his thoughts to himself. "You were sick for a spell. " He gently urged.

"True. But I recovered." He replied fiercely as the remnants of his dream departed. "It is not the first time I've been low, Wyatt and from what experience has taught me, it won't be the last." He pointed at the page in the journal. "This is total fucking fiction. It has got to be some kind of elaborate con or hoax, or the evidence of a very sick young woman."

Wyatt only shook his head at his friend. "I'm sorry Doc, but I don't think it is. Unfortunately, this," He motioned toward the journal, "is making a lot of sense by tying up several loose ends."

Doc exhaled loudly and took another long drink from his glass. "Well, fuck me…" He mumbled.

"Read some more Doc. What else does she say?" Wyatt prompted.

Doc paged back to the first dated entry in the year 1881. "This is the day we met."

_Have arrived in Tombstone 1881. I'm not certain but I believe I am several weeks behind Malachi's arrival. I fell from the time portal in a ravine just outside of town. Although I am unhurt, the impact or the trip itself must have knocked me out for several hours. Angel is nowhere in sight and I believe he didn't follow me. I can only hope he will arrive soon._

_The local priest, Father Martin, speaks of suspicious activity among his parishioners. Since the town is too large for me to patrol alone and there are too many places to hide, Father Martin has suggested I intermix with the Earp brothers who are lawmen of the town. His idea has merit and I plan on making contact today. I'm hoping either to stay disguised as a boy or play the damsel in distress. Either idea will allow me to get close enough to observe the surroundings but be able to stay anonymous. _

_**Evening**_

_I am settled in a room above the Oriental saloon. The Priest's idea worked like a charm. I am now the new cook for the saloon. The arrangement is perfect. I will be able to cook and serve during the early evening, which will allow me to overhear the local gossip, and at the end of the evening when I am done my role as cook, I will be able to sneak out to patrol. _

_Note: Tombstone of this era is a sight to behold. Nothing I have ever imagined could have prepared me for this. Dirt and mud everywhere. Smells. Gambling. Drunk men with guns. Sex for sale. There is an air of danger surrounding the town that has nothing to do with my mission. _

_I could hardly contain my excitement at meeting Virgil, Wyatt and Morgan Earp. Legendary lawman that live up to their reputation. There is also the mysterious John Henry "Doc" Holliday. What historian wouldn't want to be in my shoes at the moment? _

_How to describe Doc… He is a charming, flirtatious, quick-witted man who is also very, very ill. Historians were correct when they assessed his personality, but he is much kinder then reputed. At least what I have seen so far. Yes, he does drink a great deal and seems to enjoy his occupation as a gambler, but there is an air of sadness that surrounds him. If one considers his personal history it is very understandable. _

_No sign of Kate yet. Maybe this is one of their off periods and she is in Globe._

_I will start my patrol this evening. Have left my gear and weapon bag at the church. I plan on changing clothes there. It should be easy enough to sneak in my possessions and hide them in my room._

Again her words echoed in his head. Right from the beginning he had made an impression on her, just as she had an impressed him. He almost felt guilty for reading her inner thoughts, but a greater part of his conscious was glad to finally hear what she felt and thought about him. But on the heels of that thought came reality. Alex was obviously insane. _I'm in love with a mad woman_. _How ironic_, he thought as he struggled not to smile and laugh aloud.

After he was finished reading Wyatt asked, "Do you think she could be for real?"

"Think about what you're saying Wyatt? It would mean she traveled 121 years back through time. It's impossible!" Doc poured himself another drink. Half the bottle was empty and he was still sober. He made a mental note to grab another bottle before they left the saloon for the night. He had the feeling it was going to be a two-bottle night.

Wyatt laughed softly. "I know it sounds nuts, Doc but just think about it for a minute. It would explain a hell of a lot. How did she know about you and Kate? Kate wasn't even at the Oriental when Alex arrived. And she referrers to you as a historical subject: _'historians were correct when they assessed his personality'_. That lends one to believe that our presence here has had a substantial impact on history, you in particular Doc. If you add everything up, what she has written in her journal and what we know of her odd behavior, it all makes sense. She had to keep this a secret. Who the hell would have believed her?"

"It would also explain the mysterious things in her bag." Morgan added. "All of us have traveled around some, can either of you say that you've seen anything remotely similar to these items before?" Morgan asked as held up the device with all the numbers as proof.

Both Wyatt and Doc gave him a thoughtful look. Doc leaned over and picked up her keys. As he fingered each key he thought about some of the off-handed comments Alex had made to him over the last few days.

_"Will you give up this personal hell you have created for yourself and return home?"_

She had been practically pleading with him that night and he hadn't been listening, thinking only that she was eager to be rid of him. Now, however, he realized how uncanny it was that she knew how horribly unhappy he felt living the way he did, and how much he really missed his family.

_"Why is it so important?" _

_"Don't you see? I can't go home and leave you here like this!"_

If her home was 121 years in the future, then it was very possible she might know his personal history, and more importantly how it all ended for him. Had she been trying to push him in a different direction? What could possible be in his future that would warrant her concern about his staying in the West?

Following this thought was something he had not considered. If she were mad, then her madness displayed an incredible amount of logic. Even when she was lying to him, and to everyone else, she knew there would be a time when her façade would come crumbling down around her and the truth would be revealed. Yet, she had never altered from her path. Instead, she had tried to ease the pain her lies would cause him by giving him something to hold on to, namely, the extraordinary connection that existed between them. All along she had been trying to tell him that her story might be a lie but her feelings for him were not and that he should never doubt them.

"_John, promise me something… if there is ever a time when you should lose faith in me, promise you'll try to remember how we laughed together and how good it was between us. Can you do that?"_

At the time he had no idea what she meant, but now…

He picked up the book and turned to another journal entry and began to read aloud.

**September 1881 (Day 9)**

_Too tired to patrol tonight. Have been awake for two days. Tonight I must get some much-needed rest. I am beginning to believe this is too much for one Guardian to handle. Perhaps I should ask Father Martin to call for help._

_While returning Father Martin's horse last night, he mentioned an increase of mysterious disappearances within the Chinese community. I told him about saving Mr. Li but that is not what had the priest upset. It seems several oriental women have gone missing. Although the Chinese are looked upon as less then human during this time period that has not deterred the kindly Priest from his effort to convert them to Christianity. He learned of the high level of fear in the Chinese community while performing his missionary work. _

_I continue to investigate the area mines, and I'm slowly sterilizing each after I have looked for clues, thus making sure the undead cannot enter the site again. Malachi and his new friends will have fewer places to hide now. _

_Still no sign of Angel! I'm so mad at him, I'm not sure I would be able to have a civilized conversation with him if he does happen to make an appearance. I cannot believe he has left me alone for so long. Men… no matter what form they take, you can never rely on them when you need them _

_Speaking of men… Doc continues his flirtatious game. In all honesty, I find him very alluring. Would it be so terrible if spent an evening in his company?_

He stopped reading and looked toward both of his friends for comments. Wyatt was the first to speak.

"Christ! A girl and a priest battling against evil alone." He exclaimed. He shook his head with disgust as he took a quick sip of his whiskey.

"Not alone, Wyatt." Doc clarified. "She also mentions waiting for her friends to arrive. Clearly, she means her factious 'cousins', Angel and William. The latter of the two just told me just this morning he prefers to be called Spike."

"Do you suppose they are also from the future?" Wyatt asked.

Doc nodded. "I don't doubt Alex believes they are from the future. Either this journal is a product of a disturb mind, or her story has yet to be authenticated." He ran his hand carefully across the page as he reread her words. He clearly remembered the day of this entry. She had looked just as exhausted as she apparently felt and at the first opportunity he had teased her about playing cards against him just to coax her into resting for a moment. Throughout the evening, as he watched her serve the meal, he worried that the work was too hard for her. He had even thought about asking Milt to dismiss her, which would give him the opportunity to not only spend more time in her company, but to also assist her financially as well.

To him, her physique was too delicate and fragile for such rough work. She didn't have the build and temperament like Kate, who often drank and whored for days on end before collapsing. He considered Alex's appearance to be geared for more genteel work, such as embroidery and gardening. How terribly wrong he had been and how foolish he felt for harboring such idiotic thoughts.

But there was one thing that Alex and he were in accord, and that was her desire to spend an evening in his company. Even though his tone was light and teasing while they spoke at his faro table, he had meant every word, and would have taken her to his room at a moment's notice if she had given him the least little incentive.

"_Don't you laugh too hard John Henry, I can still make arrangements to have some sent up to your room."_

"_You may do so, but only if you deliver it in person."_

"_Mr. Holliday, I'm appalled." _

"_Pity. I was hoping you would be inspired."_

He clearly remembered a hot flush rising to her face and the shy manner in which she turned her head to avoid the seductive gleam in his eyes.

"_I thought you wanted to show me how to play?"_

"_I do indeed, but for now cards will have to do." _

How well he remembered every word she spoke and every gesture she made that night. He had ached for her for days afterward.

Morgan next question woke him from his internal thoughts. "What does she mean by sterilize? How do you stop a vampire from entering a hole in the ground?"

"I believe I know the answer to that mystery Morgan." He reached inside his vest. "Remember this vial of lavender and sage? Well, I believe this is the substance Alex uses to create the barrier. If it works, how it works or why it works is still a mystery. Only she can answer that."

"Yeah, but why are the mines an area of interest for her? And, Christ, think about it for a moment, she works in the kitchen all day and then at night she's wandering around the desert alone, climbing in and out of these mines." Morgan shook his head. "I can't believe the balls on this girl. Shit, I wouldn't climb in half of these holes that pepper the land around this town." He picked up his drink and downed the contents. "Someone needs to stop her from doing crazy shit like this. She could get hurt."

Doc grunted his approval. "I've a mind to keep her locked up for a spell. At least until we can separate the elements of her story into truth or delusion."

"That might not be a bad idea. Maybe Dr. Goodfellow should take a look at her as well. Do you think we should speak to her cous… Uh, I mean her friends?" Wyatt asked.

"Definitely." He confirmed.


	42. Discontentment Among the Ranks

**A/N: Big thanks to everyone for their kind reviews. I'm glad you're enjoying the story. Stay tuned, there's lots more to come! **

* * *

**Chapter 41 - Discontentment Among the Ranks of the Undead**

As Wyatt, Doc and Morgan read and discussed Alex's journal, no one noticed Spike as he peered through the front window of the saloon. He took note of Alex's bag and the contents spilled out on the table and then saw her journal in Doc Holliday's hands. His lips thinned as he shook his head with irritation.

"Bloody hell." He cursed under his breath. With the three of them sitting around the table there was no way he could orchestrate a ploy to get her bag and that journal back. Things would just have to work themselves out on their own.

Once back at the hotel he immediately told Angel what he saw. "This night just gets uglier and uglier, mate." He said in a hushed voice as he moved to sit in one of the upholstered chairs.

Angel's face exploded into multiple degrees of anger. "Are you sure? One hundred percent sure?" He asked as he mimicked Spike's quiet tone.

Spike struck a match and lit his smoke. "They reminded me of The Three Stooges, sitting around the table and poking through her things." He said as he blew a cloud of smoke in the air. "No doubt about it, we're screwed."

"This is just freakin' wonderful." He plopped down on the sofa across from Spike. "How long do you think we have before they come looking for answers?" He whispered.

Spike shrugged. "Maybe two hours. It depends on how pissed the dentist gets."

Angel considered this as he looked over toward the bed and the sleeping girl laying in it. "I don't want her disturbed. If they come here looking for answers I'm taking the confrontation to the hallway. You stay here and keep things quiet. She needs to sleep or she won't be able to heal in time to finish the fight."

"We could confront them directly?" Spike suggested.

Angel looked toward the window and the waning night sky. "No time. The sun will be up soon." He sighed heavily as he stretched out on the sofa. "You can take the other bed. I'll take the sofa. Maybe we can both get some sleep before they come."

"Right." Spike agreed as he snubbed out his smoke and walked toward the windows to close the drapes. "Wake me when they come."

"Spike, if they do come, I doubt you'll need to be woken. Not the way Holliday is reputed to be able to yell."

* * *

Doc continued to flip slowly through the pages of Alex's journal as he quickly scanned the text. He was immediately drawn to the entry she made the day after Mattie's murder. He read in silence for a moment before he stopped and looked at Wyatt. 

"What is it Doc? You look shook up. Don't tell me she mentions another zombie?"

Doc slowly shook his head. "No Wyatt, but what she's written here isn't good. She made a lengthy entry about Mattie's murder."

Wyatt swallowed hard before he nodded to Doc. "Read it to me."

Doc studied his friend's face for a moment longer before he looked down at the page and began to read aloud.

**Excerpt from Alex's Journal – September 1881 (Day 12 & 13) **

_If I had been more prudent in my timing, I would not be making this journal entry now. But my ego and pride would not allow me to ask for assistance from the Guardians of this era, and as a result of my stupidity, four more innocents have died. One woman killed was Wyatt's common-law wife Mattie, formal name Celia Ann Blaylock. _

_I had only met her once while visiting Allie. She seemed like a quiet and shy creature with long blonde hair and large hazel eyes. _

_If memory serves, Mattie Earp was not supposed die until several years after she leaves Tombstone. I think the year was 1888. She develops a drug addition to laudanum while living in Tombstone. After Wyatt leaves her for Josephine Marcus, Mattie continues her habit and dies of a drug overdose. However, after today history has been rewritten, yet again, and it is my fault. _

_The others who died with Mattie were local men from town. Neither of them had families._

_Doc and Morgan led Wyatt back to the Oriental. The best word that described his condition was shock. Wide-eyed and pale, he sat in stunned silence. Morgan sat with him after pouring him a large brandy. Doc came back to the kitchen to let me know Virgil had stayed behind to make the necessary funeral arrangements on Wyatt's behalf. _

_The Earps are obviously a close-knit family. Doc may not be related by blood, but they definitely think of him as family. I can see now why he chose Wyatt and his brothers as his closest companions and there is no doubt in my mind that they consider him to be a valuable member of their group. I have not observed any sick form of idol worship from Doc toward Wyatt and his brothers, as some historians have speculated. Instead the friendship between them goes much, much deeper. _

_But its more then just friendship, the men of this era are different from what I've been exposed to. There is an unspoken bond and a support structure between them. When there is trouble or hardship, they unite to form a strong unit to face whatever is threatening them whether it is building well, a barn, fighting a fire, feeding the hungry, or hunting and killing whatever is perceived as a threat. It is an old code of ethics that is, in general, lacking in the men of my era. With the exception of our branches of the military I have never seen such devotion and bravery between men before. Where and when this admirable trait was lost, I don't know. But it was most definitely lost. There may be more people coexisting together in the twenty-first century, but we are more alienated, alone and vulnerable then the several thousands that live in this makeshift town called Tombstone in the year 1881. _

_Finally right before sunset, I managed to slip out to do some damage control. By this time all three Earp brothers and Doc were well on their way to complete intoxication. When Doc wanted to know where I was going I said I needed to get an item at the dry goods store up the street. He wanted to come with me, and after several minutes of arguing, and my promising to come back before it got dark, I managed to convince him to stay behind. _

_All four bodies had been taken to Dr. Goodfellow's office. Each one had promptly been prepared for burial and placed in a casket to wait for the funeral that was scheduled for the next day. When I arrived I found Dr. Goodfellow's office dark and empty. I entered through the back door and locked myself in. _

_Upon examination, I found evidence that all three victims had indeed falling prey to vampires. Each one had the throat viciously torn and each was drained of blood. _

_My task was not a pretty one. This has always been a part of my duties I would prefer not to perform. In the past Malachi or another member of our team would step up and carry out this horrific act. To me it always seemed more like desecration of the body then preventing another possible vampire from rising. Perhaps my feelings stem from the emotional trauma I suffered when my parents died. My brain understands the necessity of the act but my heart doesn't like it. _

_Per regulation, I made a clean cut at the neck, severing the head from the body. Due to the nature of the injuries each victims face was coved by a white cloth, which would hide the evidence of my actions. In each heart I drove a thin blade of wood, pushing it well below the skin so it wouldn't show. Finally, I placed a communion wafer over the entrance wound the wood made. _

_I couldn't help but to linger a moment over Mattie's body. This beautiful troubled woman had been alive just the day before. True, her troubles were over now, and hopefully she is at peace. Nevertheless, I couldn't help thinking about all the things she would never ever get to do: she would never laugh again; never eat another slice of chocolate cake; buy another pretty dress; hear an orchestra play her favorite song, or enjoy the multiple shades of a sunset. Mattie Earp was dead…_

…_and it was all my fault._

"Christ." Morgan hissed. "Wyatt…" He began but his brother held up his hand to stop his comments.

"Yeah, I know Morgan. I was wondering if Mattie was a victim of this devil's schemes, and now I have my answer. If what Alex wrote is true, then she stopped Mattie from becoming…one of them."

"Damn her! This," Doc began as he gestured to the journal, "is just another reason why she should have told us what was going on."

"She also mentions the future again. She says Mattie wasn't suppose to die yet, and that I leave her for Josie." Wyatt pointed out.

"Yeah, I noted that." Doc grumbled as he reread the entry.

"Are you starting to believe her story, Doc?" Morgan asked.

Doc stared off as he contemplated the situation. A final shake of his head gave Morgan his answer. "There's no question she knew these vampires were in town and that they posed a threat. How she knew this has yet to be verified. As for her thoughts about my friendship with your family… well, anyone in town could have informed her of our relationship. I need to speak to her, Morgan. If she is as smart as I believe her to be, then I hope she won't try to sidestep my questions again like she did last night."

"And what if she refuses to answer our questions?"

Doc gave Morgan a sly smirk as a dark, cold glint slowly grew in his eyes. It was a look Morgan had seen Doc use right before he struck out at whoever was provoking him. One or two of those confrontations ended in gunfire with Doc's opponent sporting a bullet wound as the gambler calmly gathered up his winnings, and made one last parting remark before strolling out the door.

"My level of irritation has elevated to the point where I almost want her to refuse. It would be the perfect excuse to render an old fashion spanking."

Knowing it was useless to talk sense to Doc when he was this angry, Morgan let the matter drop. He yawned loudly and got up to stretch his legs. They've been reading and discussing Alex's journal for almost two hours and he was getting anxious about seeing Louisa. "Wyatt, it's getting late. Let's put her things back in the bag and head for the house."

"Yeah, you're right." Wyatt admitted. He looked down at the all the items on the table. Half of them he still had no idea what they were, but hopefully with a little persuasion, Alex would be willing to educate them. God help her if she refused. Considering the foul mood Doc was in, if Alex wouldn't comply… Wyatt glanced at his unhappy friend and shivered slightly at the thought of how fierce and quick Doc could explode. Well, if the need should arise, Wyatt knew of a nice secure jail were Doc could stew all he wanted.

Slowly and with great care, he began to load Alex's possessions back into her bag. When he picked up one of her wooden darts he was amazed to find it was heavy as if it contained a weighted inner core. She also carried two specially constructed wrist bands that would hold a stake on the inside of the arm until released to spring forward and into the owner's hands.

He ran a bewildered hand over his eyes. The events of the evening left him feeling numb and slow witted. There was a whole entire world, a dark world, which existed just below the level of his awareness. He and his brothers, as well as Doc, had been totally unaware of the danger around them. And yet, this girl was secretly and single-handedly trying to control the situation on her own. From the moment they arrived in Tombstone the signs had been all around him. He had known something was wrong in this town, but neither him, nor his brothers, had been able to figure it out. Yet, apparently Alex was well aware of what was going on, and like a seasoned professional, she had strategically placed herself in the best position to observe the surroundings and execute an attack. He shook his head and chuckled softly. And they thought she was the one who needed protection.

"What's so funny?" Doc asked as he snapped a match and lit a smoke.

"Do you realize we were all outsmarted by a woman?"

Doc scoffed in reply as he tossed the spent match in the ashtray.

"You're still not convinced are you?" Wyatt asked.

He scoffed again as he fingered one of her darts. With ease he twirled the wooden weapon in his hand before flipping it over to present to Wyatt handle first. "No, sir, I am not. What I am is damn confused and extremely annoyed."

Wyatt nodded with understanding as he took the offered dart. It would take little more time for all of them to come to grips with what happened tonight. He would never say this out loud, but he was almost convinced Alex wasn't the least bit crazy, but until Doc cooled down he would keep his opinions to himself.

Wyatt looked down at the black bag on the table. This story had started with a stranded, wayward girl and a missing bag. Now the girl was missing and the bag was abandoned. How ironic. From Wyatt's point of view, the story was nearly complete. They had almost come full circle. After they had a chance to speak to Alex, he was sure all the missing pieces would fall into place. "She's going to be missing this bag." He warned Doc.

"Yes, she will indeed." Doc replied coldly. "I plan on holding it hostage until I am completely satisfied and then some. I'm tired of being fucked with." He closed the journal with a snap and placed it with the rest of her things.

Alerted by his friend's angry words, Morgan had stopped his tour of the shattered room to look back at Doc. "You'll have to return her weapons, Doc. She's going to need them."

Doc cursed under his breath and tossed back another glass of scotch. When his plea fell on deaf ears Morgan frowned and turned away. Sometimes Doc could be a real ass when the mood struck him and Morgan had the feeling his current mood was here to stay for a long while.

Morgan strolled over to the faro table and saw it was almost cracked in two. "My God. She must have hit this table really hard." He squatted down to look at the underside of the wood and saw the table was not spilt completely through. Perhaps it could still be mended. When he didn't get a reply from his brother, he poked his head out from underneath the table and hollered louder. "Wyatt, did you hear me?" And that was when he noticed the blood that covered the chair and surrounding floor. "Oh my God." He whispered.

"What's the matter Morg?" Wyatt finally asked.

"This chair." He said as he stood over the evidence. When he looked up at the other two men he could tell by their confused expressions that they had no idea what he was talking about. "Who sat in this chair?" Morgan asked in a firmer voice and then pointed at the object to further illuminate his thoughts.

"I don't know, Morgan. What does it matter? Whoever it was isn't here anymore, which is all I'm concerned about at the moment." He brushed off his little brother's observation and continued to examine Alex's things as he placed them one by one back into her bag.

Doc, however, had taken notice of Morgan and he now stood up to get a better look at what he was pointing out. What Doc saw puzzled him. It was a blood covered chair and the floor surrounding it was splattered with large droplets of blood, as if the last person who sat in the chair had been bleeding profusely. As his heart struggled to comprehend what his mind already knew, Morgan had solved the mystery and was on the move.

"We have to go, NOW!!!" He yelled at both men.

"What's the matter?" Wyatt asked.

"What's the matter? You're both stubborn bastards that what's the matter." He walked over to the table and grabbed his hat. "We're leaving. Get your stuff." He ordered.

"Morgan, I'm not in the mood to be trifled with." Wyatt snapped.

"Wyatt, I don't give a shit what your mood is." He yelled back. "Have either of you thought for a moment about what happened in this room tonight? Christ, I'm just as guilty as you." Both men continued to look confused, although Wyatt looked more irritated then confused.

"Let me spell it out for both of you… A young woman came in here tonight and fought bravely. More bravely then I have ever seen either of you do. Then she was slammed down onto a hard wooden table," he jerked his thumb in the direction of the faro table, "which is now almost cracked in two. And to top off her evening, her demonic husband tossed her into a lot of glass shelves and liquor bottles." Then he gestured to the bloody chair and floor. "She's probably bled to death by now, and all we can do is poke around in her stuff and read her diary like a group of teenage boys." As he finished his rant, Doc had walked over to the chair with Wyatt in tow. Both men glanced from the chair to the faro table before Wyatt walked over to investigate that as well.

Morgan had finished replacing Alex's things in her bag and strapped it over his shoulder. "I can't believe I listened to you Wyatt and didn't go after her when she ran down that street. Shit!" With that said he marched to the saloon door. He stopped and looked back at his brother and best friend. "Wyatt!"

"Yeah, ok, Morgan." He quickly followed his brother to the door. "You've made your point. But we've no idea where to look for her."

Morgan could only scowl with irritation. "And Ma said you were the bright one. Think about it Wyatt, we should start at the Grande and pray she's there. If she isn't, I'm going to beat the piss out of both of you."

Doc hadn't moved. He continued to stare at the blood covered chair. There was blood everywhere. Now that Morgan had pointed it out, he could clearly see a trail leading from behind the bar to the middle of the room where she had fought again with Malachi, and then back to the chair when the priest had helped her sit. He looked down at his hands and saw they also had traces of blood on them and on the cuffs of his jacket as well, as did his boots and pants. He had held her by the shoulders so he could vent his anger and all the while she had been dripping blood everywhere.

To the left of the chair lay the white bar towel he had thrown in her face. It lay there forgotten, her wounds untended when she ran out the door. His eyes traveled the length of the room as he followed the trail of blood that disappeared, like she had, into the dead of night.

_Dead…_

Suddenly, his stomach rolled and he stumbled back a few steps. Morgan was right, she could have bled to death, or maybe she had internal injuries or broken bones from hitting that table. If she was dead, what would he do?

"Doc!" Wyatt called. "Let's go."

Doc looked up at Wyatt, and nodded in agreement, but before he started for the door he first grabbed a new bottle of scotch from under the bar. When both men stepped out the front door they bumped into Morgan as he stood on the wooden walkway outside.

"What is it now, Morgan?" Wyatt asked, mystified by his brother's stillness.

"Who do these horses belong to?" Morgan gestured to the five horses tied to the hitching post in front of the saloon. He walked over to the first horse and passed one hand over the crusted sweat on the animal's neck. "They've been ridden hard from the look of them."

Wyatt and Doc also looked closely at the animals. "I recognized that saddle." Wyatt nodded to the last horse in the row. "That's Ringo's saddle."

"Don't you mean the late Johnny Ringo?" Doc sneered as he trailed behind Wyatt.

Wyatt barely acknowledged Doc's sarcasm as he investigated Ringo's saddlebags. He reached in the first pouch and pulled out a black book identical to Alex's. "My God!" He exclaimed as he stepped into the light reflected from the saloon's windows. He opened the cover and looked at the inscription inside.

"Malachi McCulloch. Guardian Journal #12." He read aloud. "Holy shit!" He looked quickly at Doc and Morgan. "Ringo stole Malachi's journal."

"Do I smell discontentment among the ranks of the undead?" Doc quipped.

"Come on." Morgan tugged at his brother's coat. "This is just another reason for us to hurry. I'd bet a month's pay that journal will tell us exactly where that monster is hiding and what he's been up to. Alex and her friends need to see this."

"Hold on a minute, Morgan. Perhaps we should look at this journal first before we pass it off to Alex. For once it would give us the upper hand in this scenario." Doc suggested as he took the book from Wyatt's hands and gave him the bottle to hold instead as he fanned through the journal's pages.

"And if we do learn anything of importance, what are you supposing we do, Doc?" Morgan countered. "Those things tossed Wyatt and Virgil around as if they were both children." He snatched the book from Doc's hands and tucked it safely inside the black bag. "No." He said firmly. "We need to give this to Alex. She'll know what's to be done and how to do it. Besides, it belonged to her husband."


	43. Nothing Up My Sleeve

**Chapter 42 – Nothing Up My Sleeve**

The knock on the door was not unexpected. What surprised Angel was the polite, light tapping sound of the knock. _Knock, knock, knock_. Three taps. No more, no less. He had expected Holliday to pound the door down.

He was on his feet and to the door within moments. But before he opened it to confront the men on the other side, he paused to listen to the excited sound of their heartbeats and the frustrated sighs from one extremely aggravated dentist. Spike's implied analogy of The Three Stooges almost made him laugh. Almost. If the situation wasn't so dire, he would have found it all very amusing.

Quietly he turned the key and opened the door. The first face he saw made him grimace "Oh, look it's Moe." He mocked.

Doc had no idea what he was referring to and he really didn't care. He scowled back at Angel before asking, "Is she here?"

Angel looked quickly toward the bed to make sure Alex hadn't been disturbed. Then instead of stepping back from the doorway to allow the men access to the room, Angel stepped forward, forcing them to back away from the door and further into the hallway. After he closed the door behind him he answered, "Yes, she's here, but she's sleeping and I don't want her disturbed."

Doc had thought Alex's cousin was a formable opponent before, but he now found he was seriously mistaken. Standing before him was a man who made the Johnson brothers look like church ladies. Angel's entire manner had change. He seemed taller and darker in appearance, and the look on his face was anything but welcoming. Even though he was casually dressed as if he had been relaxing, it seemed to suit him, giving him an air of danger. The word '_killer'_ resonated through Doc's head. Where the thought came from he didn't know, but he would warrant it had a ring of truth to it. Doc tallied all of his adversary's defenses, squared his shoulders and plowed forward anyway.

"We wish to see her." He showed Angel the black bag he held in his hand. "And we have lots of questions."

Angel looked briefly at the bag and then he smiled. "No." Was his simple reply. "Like I said, she's sleeping." Then he quickly reached forward to snatch the bag from Doc's hand.

Doc had anticipated this and quickly moved the bag beyond his reach. "Then I suggest you wake her." He replied dryly. His face was a blank mask as he waited for the other man to counter his move.

Wyatt quickly interjected before things escalated into a fight. "We want to help, Angel. And considering recent events, I believe we are owed an explanation."

Angel looked briefly at Wyatt but didn't immediately give him an answer before he returned to his silent study of Doc. There was something about the audacity of this man that provoked a challenge. He knew he should back down and let the situation cool before things got really out of hand, but instead of doing what he knew to be right he stepped forward again, forcing the gambler to take a step back.

Sensing a threat, Doc reached across his chest and let his fingers rest on the handle of his gun. "I'm afraid I'll have to insist, sir."

Angel's dry expression hinted at dangers yet unrevealed. "Insist all you want," he replied in a cool tone, "the answer is still no. Come back tonight, or better yet, don't come back at all." He held his hand out for the bag. "Thank you for returning Alex's things."

Doc's set his jaw, took a step forward, and tried to push Angel out of his way but didn't succeed. Angel shoved back, pushing him further down the hall. Doc only lost his footing for a moment before smoothly pulling his gun and cocking back the hammer.

The sight of Doc Holliday's gun pointed at his head was slightly unnerving, but it did little to change Angel's mind. He was surrounded now. Doc stood in front and Wyatt and Morgan stood behind him. The situation might have looked bleak to an observer but Angel only smiled. "Shoot me and she'll never speak to you again, I guarantee it." He said with a level voice. He saw the other man's expression falter for just a moment as he considered this information.

"Doc!" Wyatt warned.

"Don't worry Wyatt, I won't kill him. I'm just going to hurt him… a lot." He replied coolly.

"Like bloody hell you will!" Snapped a voice from behind him.

Before Doc could turn around he felt the bag ripped violently from his hand. When he turned away from Angel to confront the new attacker he felt his gun torn from the other hand. He jerked his head back at Angel who now held his gun and then he turned back around to address Alex.

Her pale face radiated pure fury, but that wasn't what disturbed him. Just the sight of her alive and whole almost sent him to his knees. Until this moment he hadn't realized he had been mentally preparing himself to face her death.

"Alexis." He breathed. Without thinking he reached for her, wanting only to take her in his arms and feel the warmth of her body against his, but she quickly smacked his hand away and stepped beyond his reach.

"Thank you for returning my things. Now get the fuck out!" She spit with sufficient venom.

Doc heard her sharp retort but at the moment he was distracted by her appearance. Something wasn't right but he couldn't seem to put his finger on it. He made a quick study of her attire and almost laughed at her unconventional clothing. She was barefoot and wearing a large undershirt and baggy pajama bottoms that look as if they belonged to one of her cousins. Her hair was coming unbound from its braid and was slightly messy from her sleep. But he was not put off by her appearance. On the contrary, he found her whole look to be quite charming.

_Whole?_

That's what was bothering him. He looked closer and found not a scratch on her body. Not one cut or bruise showed. Not even the bite wound on her neck. Before she could complain or hinder his movement, he stepped forward, grabbed her by the arm, and began to search for any injuries. She instantly became hostile.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" Alex tried not to think about his warm hands gently passing over her arms, up her neck and then down her back, but she found herself leaning into his body anyway.

"We were worried that you might be hurt." He was peeking down the back of her shirt to examine her back. Then he lifted her hair to look closely at her neck and became light headed when he caught a whiff of her bath soap mixed with the aroma of her warm skin.

"Alex, there was blood all over the floor and chair, but you don't have a scratch on you. How can this be?" Gently, he tilted her chin up to look in her eyes. For just a brief moment he saw all the pain and torment she hid from the world before it vanished and the cold gleam settled back into her light-green orbs as she pushed him away.

"As you can see, I'm fine."

"But the blood?"

"Yes," she hissed with renewed anger, "there was an awful lot of blood, but blood washes off and wounds heal. Emotions, sometimes, do not." Her last statement was aimed at his heart and with secret glee she watched her barb strike home.

"Alex… I." He started to explain but the words seemed to dry up in his throat. From behind, Doc heard Wyatt speak up.

"Alex, we need to talk… about everything."

Alex shifted her gaze from Doc to Wyatt. "I agree. And we will talk, but now is not the time. I'm tired, damn it, and I hurt from head to toe. I need to rest." She gave Morgan a passing glance, noticing that he elected to stay neutral during the confrontation.

Resigned that things would not get resolved then and there, Wyatt nodded. "Sure. We'll come back later."

She shook her head at him. "No. Tonight." She said with an edge of anger still in her voice. "I'll come to Virgil's. Go to his house and stay there. Don't let anyone in and don't you go out after sunset. Understand?" She waited as Wyatt nodded.

Then she turned back to Doc. "And you…lover," she mocked, "I don't ever want to lay eyes on you again. Is that clear enough for you?"

"I deserve an explanation too, Alex." He replied with more force than he felt at the moment. Her anger seemed to suck all the strength from his body. Suddenly, Doc felt old, tired and above all else heartbroken with loss.

She gave him a dry mocking grin. "And you'll get one, when you hear it second hand from Wyatt. If I see you at Virgil's tonight I'll toss your ass out to the wilds and whatever might be lurking in them." Then she turned and marched back to the adjoining door of Angel's rooms.

Doc saw Spike standing in the doorway as the Englishman took in the scene. He gave Doc a friendly wave and then shrugged his shoulders as if to indicate the uncertainties of the female temperament before he turned to follow Alex inside.

When Doc turned back toward Angel he found the other man has also departed and the door was shut against them.

"Ah, hell." He spit with renewed anger. Then he looked down at his empty hands and cursed again. "That son of a bitch took my gun."

* * *

Alex stood in the middle of the room clutching the bag. She felt like screaming and throwing things against the wall, but she didn't. Instead, she stood still, closed her eyes and acknowledged her anger. Then she let it wash over her and out the souls of her feet.

Spike watched all of this with amused interest. He knew what she was attempting to do, so he waited for the inevitable. Silently, he strolled over to the bar and poured three glasses of bourbon and began to count. He was surprised he got as far as nine before she struck. There was a crash, followed by two more before she stomped over to him and sat in a chair. He handed her a drink as he looked at the pile of porcelain and metal that had at been a vase, a clock and a candy dish.

"You've got a good arm. Of course, that would be commonplace for a gal with your skills."

Angel had joined them so Spike gave him a glass as well. "Now isn't this cozy." He raised his glass. "To the nineteenth century and all of its chauvinistic charm." He toasted.

"Shut up, Spike." Angel threatened.

"Make me." Spike lightly countered.

Before either man could continue Alex interrupted when she glanced inside her bag. "He took my journal." She said softly.

"What!" Both Angel and Spike exclaimed at the same time.

"You heard me." She tossed the bag to the floor. Then she issued a bitter laugh. "I love him so much I think I might have to kill him."

Angel had picked up her bag and peered in but the smell of lavender and sage made him quickly release it. "Forget about the journal for now. Obviously they know what you're about...what we're about."

"That journal is Guardian property and I intend to get it back."

"And you will, love. Angel and I will see to that." Spike replied as he passed her a lit cigarette. "No worries." He watched as she puffed hard on her smoke before lighting his own. "Try to see it from his point of view." He blew a cloud of smoke into the air before he continued. "With all due respect, you just rocked his sad, pathetic world. Let him have just one little bit of victory and read your journal. Might as well let him learn the complete story. It may even help heal the breach between you."

Alex just shook her head. "You don't know Doc like I do. He'll never forgive me. Not after I hurt his friends." She snubbed out her smoke, and swallowed the contents of her glass like a well-seasoned drunk before she stood. "Doesn't matter. Nothing matters except finding Malachi." Then she turned and went back to the bed to continue her rest.

**Excerpt from Alex's Journal – September 1881 (Day 18, Dawn)  
**Written on a loose piece of hotel stationary.

_My time here will make a very interesting study if ever I should return home. If it was up to me I would title the report "The Cause and Effects of Lying to Your 19th Century Boyfriend and His Friends." I am very sorry if I hurt anyone, but I saw no other way to handle this situation. It was a perfect example of 'damn if you do and damn if you don't'. Even now, after all pretenses have been stripped away, now that Doc and the Earps know my secret, I still can't see a better outcome. _

_Good and evil clashed tonight and the battleground was the Oriental. I did all I could to stop the Cowboy gang – who are now all members of the undead – from hurting my friends and the man I have come to love. With Spike and Angel's help we were successful in fighting them off. Thankfully, no one was killed, but they were all badly frightened and the saloon is in shambles. _

_The raid was lead by Johnny Ringo, who I am most certain came to the saloon to look for me and dispose of Doc Holliday. Malachi appeared on the scene shortly after Spike and I disposed of Ringo and his friends. _

_Malachi claims he didn't come to fight, but to bring me home. Why I'm I instrumental to his plans? He said Ringo had accelerated his scheme, which tells me he would have taken care of Ringo if I hadn't already done so. There must be restlessness among his crew, or perhaps I should say his army, because that is what I suspect he has created. Earlier this afternoon I scoped out the Clanton ranch and found evidence of a large mining operation. They are dumping the stones and rocks in the woods behind the ranch. From the amount of stones excavated there must be at least hundred or more vampires working and probably living underground. No wonder I was only able to slay a dozen or more since my arrival, Malachi is simply not letting them roam free above ground._

_The Western half of the United States is vastly uncontrolled and lawlessness is commonplace. If Malachi isn't stopped he could very easily take over several Western states. What ambition. What a grandiose plan. Honestly, I find myself to be very impressed by his vision. What a shame my dear husband didn't exhibit this much drive before he became a vampire. _

_As for the Earps… Well, after tonight there is no need for me to explain the vampire situation in Tombstone. They have witnessed the evil haunting their town first hand. The experience, however, has left them with lots of questions that will demand answers. I have put off telling them anything until this evening. Perhaps by then I will have found the strength to face the evitable confrontation. _

_As for my relationship with Doc Holliday… Obviously, I don't need to explain the status of our romance. It is now shattered. Doc saw me fight the vampires. Afterwards, his eyes held nothing but cold anger and hate. I am certain there is nothing I could say or do to change his mind or his heart. _

Alex put her pen down and rubbed her eyes. Writing by candlelight was hell on the vision. Usually, documenting the events of the day and her thoughts on what took place always gave her some peace of mind, as if she somehow pulled all the worry and stress from her brain and placed it on the pages of her journal. Tonight, however, was different.

Too much had happened to completely document the evening full of turmoil and emotional upheaval. She had expected it to be this way when her cover was evidentially blown, but thinking about it and having it happen were two different things.

* * *

"Damn." Wyatt cursed as the walked across the lobby. "I can't go to Virgil's now and wait all day. How the hell can I wait with all these questions running through my head?"

Once outside the rising sun began to faintly illuminate the dirty streets of the town. Doc paused to look back to make sure they weren't followed before he reached behind his back and under his jacket to pull out the two journals.

"Then I suggest we educate ourselves gentlemen." He held the journals up for Wyatt and Morgan to see.

Wyatt laughed. "I should have known. Doc, you are a scamp."

"I am indeed." He replied with a grin.

Wyatt might have been amused but Morgan was stunned. "How did you manage to…?" He began. "Those journals were inside the bag when I gave it to you to hold, Doc. I didn't even see you open the bag, let alone shove the journals behind your back."

"That, my friend, is why I make a living from gambling and you don't." He replied with a cocky grin. "Come; let us see how your family is faring. I'm worried to death about Virgil's arm." He motioned for Wyatt to lead the way as he fell in step behind.

Hesitantly, Morgan followed, but he was still worried about confiscating Alex's belongings. "Doc, aren't you concerned you'll antagonizing her further by withholding her property? I mean, she's mad enough at you now, she's going to be fit to be tied when she comes over to see us tonight."

Doc shrugged as he glanced back at his friend. "If she needs to be tied Morgan then I shall tie her. I might even enjoy myself while doing it." Secretly, he was worried about Alex's temper but he attempted to cover his concern with dry humor.

Morgan's frown increased. "This isn't funny, Doc. You could be ruining a good relationship by being an inconsiderate ass." Doc didn't look back this time but Morgan heard him sigh loudly.

"I think the deed is already done, Morgan." His voice was strained and worn thin from his emotional upheaval. "Unhappiness in love seems to be my fate. Thankfully, I won't have to live with it much longer."

When the three men finally arrived at Virgil's home, Allie was fit to be tied as well. Exhausted and worried about her husband, she lit into her two brothers-in-law for making her worry about them too. "Finally, you decide to grace us with your presence, and with no thought or consideration for us." As she railed at them her Irish accent and temper only increased. "I've been worried sick. Not to mention Virgil who was half-mad with concern for you. Where have you been Wyatt?"

With a large amount of irritation Wyatt watched Morgan sneak silently by Allie's defenses and into Virgil's room where Louisa had been helping Allie nurse Virgil's injured arm. _Ma was wrong when she said I was the smart one,_ he thought.

"We've…" Wyatt began to answer his sister-in-law, but Allie only cut him off again.

"No, don't tell me. You've been drinking and mauling over things." She turned sharply around to continue her lecture at Doc. "And you are more than likely the cause for them not coming home sooner."

Doc raised both eyebrows at her. "I Madam? Why do I bear the brunt of the blame?"

"Why?" She screeched. "Because John Holliday, nine of ten times it is your fault. You, with your fancy talk, and your fancy clothes, are nothing but a common drunk."

"Allie!" Virgil barked from the other room. "Leave Wyatt and Doc alone. They've had a rough night too."

Allie glared a moment longer at Doc before she turned and marched into the bedroom to tend to her husband.

Wyatt was more than embarrassed at Allie's outburst. "Doc, I'm sorry. I'm sure she doesn't mean what she said. She's just upset."

Doc sighed loudly, took off his hat and plopped down into the nearest chair. "No, Wyatt, she's right. I've had that lecture coming for some time now. I guess all of womankind is pissed off at me." He looked about the room. "Did Milt go home?"

Wyatt nodded. "He must have good instincts. I guess he knew it was safe to leave after the sun came up." He yawned loudly as he glanced out the window at the still Arizona landscape. "It looks so peaceful now."

"And I surmise it will stay that way," Doc prophesied, "at least until sundown."

* * *

**A/N: Reviews are very welcomed. Thanks for reading! The next chapter will be up in about 10 days.**


	44. Alexis, Kate and Mattie, Oh My!

**Chapter 43 – Alexis, Kate and Mattie, Oh My! **

Shortly after arriving at Virgil's house, the Earps settled down, each finding their own spot to rest while the day was still young.

Wyatt found Josie nestled safely in the spare bedroom. He quietly removed his clothing and crawled between the cool sheets to cuddle next to her warm body. She barely woke as he wrapped his arms around her. Within moments he drifted off.

Louisa and Allie had assisted Dr. Goodfellow as he set the broken bones in Virgil's shattered arm as best he could, although he warned both women that the chances of Virgil recovering the use of his arm were slim. Once the operation was complete, he stabilized the bones by fastening his arm to a plank and wrapped it securely with a clean cloth. Then he repositioned Virgil's dislocated shoulder. Virgil now lay shirtless on his back; his arm and shoulder cradled in a large sling. Together the two women prayed and watched over Virgil as he rested.

Morgan settled down with Louisa on a spare mattress in Virgil and Allie's room where she would be at hand to help her sister-in-law nurse Virgil. Now that her family was home and safe, Allie could finally settle down next to her husband to rest as well.

No one spoke of the tragic night's events. It seemed to be a silent unanimous agreement that sleep was more important now than discussing details of the terrifying night. But there was one member of the household who found sleep elusive. Even though he had removed his coat, cravat, and boots for comfort before he stretched his long legs out over the sofa in the living room, Doc's mind continued to pour over events.

_She lied to me_.

The statement continued to repeat over and over again in his head. Everything had been a lie. A delusion. A falsehood. Only her name had been real and even that he now doubted. He felt deceived.

He turned his head to look at the two journals lying on the table in front of the sofa. Surely her journal had to be pure fiction and most likely the product of a disturbed mind. Or was it? At the moment he was more unsure of himself and the circumstances around him than he had ever been. Still, he couldn't deny some of the facts or the things he had seen with his own eyes, but it would take some time for him to comprehend all that happened tonight.

There were elements of Alex's story that rang true. After all, he had been a witness to her fighting skills. He was sure he had looked evil in the face before he shot it pointblank with his revolver, watched in terror as the bullet penetrated his target and had no effect. These facts he could not deny, but that didn't mean some of what she revealed was not the product of madness. Was there really a secret order of warriors within the Catholic Church? Alex called them Guardians. Most importantly, was she really a member of this organization?

There were also her wounds to consider. How the hell did they heal so quickly? Had her injuries been an elaborate ploy? A con? He quickly shook his head at the thought. No, that wasn't possible. He had stood not twenty feet from her and watched with horror as that animal sank his teeth deep into the flesh of her throat. The sound of her skin tearing and the smell of fresh blood pouring down her neck had been no illusion. The trail of blood she left behind on the floor and the on chair had also been real. What he didn't understand was how she managed to heal so quickly. Or, did she simply cover her injuries with some technique unknown to him.

The tightness in his chest increased tenfold as he continued to think about what he had witness and what Alex had revealed in her journal. No wonder she was so reluctant to disclose her reasons for her mysterious visit to Tombstone. If she had confided in him he never would have believed a word. He laughed softly. Of course she knew he wouldn't, and that was why she lied. As if to brand the truth further into his brain her pleading words came back to haunt him.

_If you want to continue our relationship as it is then please don't make me tell you." _

_"Alexis, how bad could it be?" _

_"You're not going to believe me and afterwards you will never speak to me again." _

_"That will never happen, I swear." _

He had sworn to stand by her and when the time came to do so he had spit in her face and turned away from her instead. Apparently his honor had rotted away along with his lungs.

He wondered if it was it possible to love someone so much you would risk everything just to be a part of their world. Alex had believed in the strength of love and she had taken that risk, but she had gambled on him and lost.

At one time in his life Doc had thought he knew what love was. First there had been his cousin Mattie – pure, graceful, and religious to a fault. She had been all he had wanted and he had pursued her with a reckless passion of a young inexperienced lover. But Mattie was not within his reach, and when he realized she never would be, he knew he needed to get as far away from her as he could.

Doc rose from the sofa to retrieve the bottle he had taken from the saloon and poured himself a generous helping. His first sip consumed half the glass. His second emptied it. The tightness in his chest eased slightly. He touched bottle to glass once more before he settled back onto the sofa to smoke and think. Too much had happened tonight. His world hadn't had this much turmoil since his rapid departure from Georgia. How ironic that a woman was the center of both upheavals.

He had called on Mattie after giving her a week to think over his proposal. Apparently he wasn't her only admirer. When he found that fool, Tom Mullen, with his dirty field-stained hands on his future wife he flew into a rage and beat the man unconscious. The farmer had been very lucky he wasn't heeled that day. Mattie was also fortunate he had arrived when he did, otherwise her virginity that she prized so highly would not be intact to waste away when she gave it to Christ instead of a warm blooded man as Doc believe God had intended. So he had left her standing in the middle of the porch with tears streaming down her face, crying that she loved him but that their union was not possible because of her devotion to the church and her family.

The town newspapers and local gossips had a picnic gabbing about the disturbance he had caused. Poor Mattie had been humiliated to find their private love affair was now the talk of the town. Her family had been against their union, as was the Catholic Church, and because she had disobeyed her father she had been punished.

Doc had also been mortified to find his rejected marriage proposal was common knowledge. But not everyone found the situation discouraging. On the contrary, women from a twenty-mile radius now offered every excuse they could think of to call at the house or to cross paths with him as he carried out his business in town. Every conniving mother in the county managed to push her single daughter in his face. It seemed dentist were the ideal marriage material. After all, his family had a high social standing, and Doc was well aware that his tall, thin figure and polished style of dress was favored among the women folk.

To his father the solution was a simple one – if Mattie wouldn't accept his proposal, then his son should choose one of the other girls who put themselves on display. After all, one pretty wife was just a good as another. When he refused to consider anyone but Mattie his father had exploded.

Soon afterwards Mattie announced her plans to join a convent, and to add to his heartache he had been diagnosed with consumption. His bright future quickly came undone and was now spiraling out of control.

Doc chuckled softly. Even after all this time he could still find some measure of humor in the train wreck that was his life. Yes, it was certainly ironic. As a nun, Mattie would wear black on the outside of her person for the rest of her life, and he would black on the inside of his soul for the rest of his. Some might even call it fitting.

To Texas he had traveled, submersing himself completely in the dark netherworld of the western frontier. He tried to forget his heartbreak and his tender love for Mattie. For a while it worked, he ceased to be John Henry and became Doc, a cold, defiant, and reckless being. His alter ego eagerly sought out every fight he could find, not caring if he landed in jail or the morgue. But then Kate came along. She had somehow sensed his outward appearance was not his true one, and with a great deal of feminine persistence, and a lot of sex, she had coaxed him into a calmer realm. They struck a partnership that wasn't pure love, nor was it plain friendship, but something altogether unique. For a while he was almost happy.

Until he saw Alex, and whatever peace that had settled into his heart quickly departed. He knew he wanted her the moment Wyatt ripped that cap off her head, spilling her long-golden hair around her shoulders. At the age of thirty he was in love for the very first time, and if consumption didn't kill him first, his love for Alex surely would.

After they consummated their relationship he thought there might be a future for them. It surely wouldn't be a long future, but perhaps a few years of bliss in the presence of her company would allow him to die peacefully.

He shook his head as he gazed at the two black books. Their relationship couldn't have been a ploy. After all, Alex had confessed her love for him in the pages of her journal. He knew the passion they shared in bed was real, he would not second guess that. Even the most skilled whore could not mislead a man into believing what he had felt when Alex lay in his arms. And he knew a thing or two about skilled whores, he had lived with one for the past five years.

His course should have been simple. He had meant to propose and marry Alex as quickly as he could. It was his only chance to keep her in town. How then did things get unhinged so quickly?

He rose to retrieve the bottle and filled his glass once again. He intended to get good and drunk. God help the person who interrupted him. He glanced toward Allie's room and frowned at the imagined irritation Virgil's wife could deliver but that wouldn't stop him from drinking his fill. Glass in one hand and freshly rolled cigarette in the other he began to pace the room as the evening's scenario replayed in his head.

The evening had started out badly and gradually grew worse. After sharing his story of woe with the Earps he worked the faro table for Wyatt. Working always helped to keep his mind off his troubles, that and a fifth of bourbon. The Oriental was moderately busy. Josie, who had taken up another call for a song, was pleasantly singing at the piano. Business had picked up since his arrival. The betting was active and men came and went as they spent their money on liquor and cards. It was just your normal, mundane night in any typical saloon.

Several people had approached Wyatt and Milt to inquire about the dinner menu. Most seemed genuinely disappointed to learn Alex would no longer be cooking dinner for the saloon. Even though he was secretly glad to have Alex all to himself, he had also been proud of how well liked and accomplished she had become in such a short time. And what a revelation it was to have a woman he could be proud of and not ashamed to be associated with. Indirectly, his relationship with Alex was his first taste of respectability in years.

As the evening progressed, he continued to look for Alex to emerge from the crowd. He was already worried and was quickly approaching panic. The sun had set and still she hadn't arrived. Random thoughts fueled by his anxiety began to run through his head. He began to wonder if she would skip town without telling him goodbye. He contemplated if her story about going to confession wasn't an excuse to visit a lover hidden somewhere in town, mayhap the same person responsible for the destruction in his room. Or, perhaps one or both of her cousins were really her lovers and they had just been made making a fool of him. All manner of thoughts continued to float through his head. When he looked around the room again and saw no sign of her he quickly checked his watch. Fifteen more minutes and he would go look for her.

A sudden stir of alarm had pulled him away from his thoughts. A woman screamed. Several men yelled loudly, and then the crowd in the saloon suddenly moved backward as one body. When one person turned to run out the back door of the saloon, several more quickly followed. There was an immediate rush as customers began to flee, but from what he still couldn't tell. He turned to look at Wyatt who was also straining to see through the crowd. When he looked back toward the front door he saw what everyone was running from and it was walking straight toward the faro table with four others of its kind in tow.

"Doc Holliday." It called out as it gave him a wicked smile revealing sharp pointed teeth. "I came back to finish my dessert. Have you seen her tonight?"

It looked like Johnny Ringo, but wasn't. Or, perhaps it was. He couldn't think straight as fear like he had never known before threatened to rip sanity from his grasp.

It laughed again. "What's the matter, Doc, don't you like the new me?"

He answered with both guns blazing, and then watched in horror as the bullets hit his mark and had no effect. Ringo only laughed harder and grabbed him around the throat. His airway was immediately sealed off and his vision started to go gray when he heard Alex scream Ringo's name.

He couldn't believe how well she fought. Better then most men he knew. And the bravery she displayed still had him in awe.

When the dead man from the photograph walked into the saloon with two monsters at his side, all the pieces of Alex's drama rushed together and formed one of the worst nightmares he had ever imagined. No wonder she wouldn't say much about her reason for coming to Tombstone. If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes he would never have believed her. A walking, talking, feeling demon inside her husband's body, and God help her, it still wanted a relationship with her.

As he continued to pace length of Allie's cozy parlor, his eyes were continuously drawn to the two black books. There was only one answer to his dilemma and that was knowledge. He filled his glass again and settled down in a chair by the window to finish uncovering the secrets Alex kept hidden in her journal. He opened the book to the first page. By the time he reached the section when she had changed the year from 2002 to 1881 he was so engrossed in her story he didn't notice how quickly the morning had faded into the afternoon.

**August 8, 2001 – South America **

_We have been dispatched to protect a local mission and the village it serves. This is not my first time to this southern hemisphere, but it is my first time patrolling in the dense jungle. Green. Moist. Hot. Noisy with the sound of animals and bugs. These are words that describe the world around me. I am not happy here and for some reason I am very anxious and on edge. I fear there is a dark presence lurking in the shadows and it is watching us. _

_I wish with all my heart that Malachi had refused this mission. Our vacation together was short lived, but for some reason Mal was eager to accept the mission's offer for help, which he did without consulting me. When we are finished here I will try to speak with him again about taking a teaching position with the Guardian organization. I'm tired of traveling; tired of fighting and really tired of seeing things man was not meant to see. What I want more than anything is to have a normal life, with a normal home, normal husband and babies. Babies are all I seem to thing about lately. As usual, Mal refuses to talk about starting a family. _

**August 10, 2001 **

_No sign of anything. No vampires. No creatures of dark origin. Nothing. Zip. Nada. Zilch. Just lots of moist greenery everywhere I look. I am very relieved, but Malachi grows more disgruntled by the hour. _

_Lately, I've had the feeling he's been hiding something from me. Now I am certain. Last night I tried to talk to him with hope he would finally confide in me, but all we did is argue. Later, he did his best to make amends. _

_To pass the time, I've been helping out in the mission. There are lots of sick villagers who suffer from our white germs. Poor things. They have no immunity against illness we consider commonplace. A common cold can lay them flat on their backs for weeks. _

_The mission is staffed with only four nuns, one priest and one doctor with the nuns doubling as nurses when they are not cleaning, cooking, washing, praying, and teaching the stories of the bible to the villagers. When I inquired as to why they were so short on help I was told it was because the villager's dialect was so odd they had trouble finding anyone who could speak the language. I would have to agree. I haven't a clue what anyone is saying. I just smile and nod a lot. _

**_Later…_**_ I went looking for Malachi and couldn't find him. I walked all over camp for an hour and no one had seen him. I was halfway dressed to go and hunt for him when he showed up. He got a scolding he won't soon forget. I've no idea where he went. When I asked for an explanation, he said he went to scope out a few areas by himself, which is so out of character for him, not to mention he broke protocol. _

**August 11, 2001 **

_Another night and we've seen nothing. Our unit of seven is ready to go home. If we see nothing after tomorrow's tonight patrol we will disband and return to Rome. Hopefully, whatever creature hunting here has moved on. _

**August 29, 2001 **

_I've no heart or energy to write in this journal. They tell me I will feel better in time but I have no faith in that belief or any other. **DISASTER**. That is what I believe in now. Disaster shall be my new God and heartbreak my idol for which to worship. _

_The doctor tells me I've been unconscious for more than two weeks. I've no memory of my injuries. The last thing I can clearly recall is Malachi screaming my name as he was dragged away by an unseen enemy. That was my last glimpse of my husband. I am told he may yet live. The nuns tell me to have faith in God, but I cannot. My husband is gone. I know this in my heart and soul. _

_All members of my unit have perished except me. Why did I survive? I wish I had been able to die with honor as they have done. But here I am, alive, breathing, thinking… Broken. _

**September 4, 2001 **

_All day I sit by the window and look out. The nuns have given me books to read, but concentration is impossible. I refuse to see anyone. I don't want visitors and I don't want to talk to anyone. A replacement unit has arrived to finish the mission my unit tried to complete. Without ceremony, I have given my report to the commander of the unit. I could tell he wanted me to give more details, or perhaps devolve more information about Malachi but there is really nothing else for me to say. _

_They tell me I can't return home just yet, but I have no desire to do so anyway. What for? My house is empty and filled with Mal's things that will only be reminders of what I've lost. _

_The doctor has given me a detailed account of my care since I was found unconscious at the base of a steep embankment. The various trees and scrubs growing on the side must have broken my fall. Other than some cuts and bruises, I had a large cut on the back of my head and a small bite wound on my hand. The cut was probably caused by my fall but the bite they say is from a snake, most likely poisonous. Obviously, this jungle doctor is wrong. How could I survive if I was bitten by a coral snake or some other venomous reptile? Still, there is no other explanation for my weeks of unconsciousness. _

_Regardless of the reason, any explanation is meaningless. _

_Details of that dark night are slowly coming back to me. Malachi had been tense and nervous for much of the day. I contributed his emotional state to our lack of finding any signs or disturbance of any kind of evil here in the jungle. At nightfall, we set out to an area Malachi wanted to search. Soon after we set out, it began to rain, and although the rain was falling softly it was very consistent, making it hard to see more than a few yards ahead. I wanted to turn back as did a few other members of our unit. Dark nights with no moon, rain and tons of vegetation make very dangerous and slippery conditions to be patrolling in. After another hour of patrolling Malachi finally agreed. We had only just started back when we were suddenly attacked. Within moments I realized we were surrounded by a large party of vampires. If we had made it another ten or fifteen yards we would have been walking in single file along a pathway that lined a steep embankment. An attack in that position would have been impossible to defend. Since the vamps had surrounded us while on flat land, I thought we were lucky. I was wrong. _

_Now that I think about it, Malachi was determined to protect me that night. Why he felt I was in any more danger that night then any other night since my initiation puzzles me greatly. I remember him ordering me to stay behind him as we fought. But when I noticed another member of our unit struggling I moved out from behind Mal and went to help him. I slew two vampires and standing beside my comrade, together we killed another one. But we were still outnumbered. I screamed for Malachi to call a retreat. _

_He was fighting just a few yards in front of me. He was struck hard, and I watched as his body slammed into a tree. He dropped to the floor of the jungle, rolled and was on his feet again. I could hear my team screaming as they were killed one by one. Malachi was yelling at everyone to fall back. He was turning around wildly as he looked to see where I was. I shouted out to him. He turned toward me and for just a moment I could see him clearly in the dim light of the jungle. I'm still not sure how it was possible for me to see him so clearly through the rain, dense vegetation and the darkness, but I swear I did. The expression on his face I shall never forget. He was immediately relieved to see me still alive and then he smiled at me, a soft sensual smile that I had seen a thousand times before. It was his special smile meant just for me and spoke of things that transpire between two people who share a deep love and fondness for one another. Then he motioned for me to fall back. I nodded and started to back way from the fight and toward the path that led toward camp, when two hands reached out from the darkness and grabbed Malachi from behind. I yelled for him and I heard him screaming my name over and over again as he was dragged off. I started to run toward the sound of his voice when the tree he had been thrown into earlier began to fall. I heard the crack of wood as it broke and when I looked up vegetation began to rain down around me. The next thing I remember is waking up in the mission. _

_They think I jumped to one side to avoid the tree and when I did I fell down the embankment. I was unconscious and barely breathing when I was found. Other than some cuts and bruises the doctor couldn't find any injuries, but my respiration and heartbeat didn't improve and upon closure examination they found a small wound on the palm of my hand near my thumb. They think it was a poisonous snake, perhaps a coral snake, but I'm not so sure. _

**September 7, 2001 **

_Still no sign of the enemy. The replacement team has been looking for Malachi, (either dead or alive) but has not found any trace or evidence. Tracking is next to impossible in this jungle. I urged them to continue to look for him or any sign that he was killed. God help us all if he should return as no longer human. _

_The other members of my unit were found dead, their throats torn and bled dry. Their remains have been taken home, first to Rome for a closer examination, and afterward a blessing by the Pope. Then they will be returned to their families for a proper burial. _

_I am ashamed to confess that I feel relieved that I won't be attending any funerals. My grief is still too close to my heart; I would never be able to withstand the questions from the different families and most likely their heated accusation as well. _

_Malachi and I had been to many funerals. So many of our members have died in battle for our cause. It never gets any easier to bear, or any less painful. Sometimes I wonder whether our fight against evil is worth it. How many more Guardians will die tonight or tomorrow? How many more elements of evil stalk the earth with deadly intensions. We are outnumbered, yet still we fight. God help me, my heart is tired and filled with despair. _

_Last night I dreamt of Malachi calling for me from beyond our camp. In my dream I walked off into the jungle to look for him. The dense leaves and trees quickly closed in around me, leaving me isolated and hidden, but in the shadows I could feel someone or something watching me. There was a slight noise that followed me as I walked. First it sounded like breathing, but as I got further and further from camp the breathing changed into laughter. _

_My screaming woke the entire mission. _

_I don't know why, but the sight of the nuns running to my bedside sent me into fits of laughter. They tell me I am still in shock. After the doctor gave me a sedative I slept undisturbed until the next morning. _

_I can't help but speculate if my nightmare is premonition or a remnant from the battle that lead to my unit being killed and my husband taken from me. I fear, a terrible fear, that a promise I_ _made long ago will now have to be fulfilled. God help me, but I'm not sure I have the strength to do it._

Doc put the book down as he paused to think about what he had just read. The situation was beyond any nightmare he had ever imagined. He still had trouble thinking of Alex as some kind of warrior but all the pieces were starting to make sense. Her presence in town, her secrecy, the strange markings on her arm all lead him to believe her story.

This journal… how remarkable her story was. It was almost as if she was sitting beside him, telling him her story personally. He could almost hear her speaking to him with her soft Yankee tone that was laced with just a tinge of an English accent from her years of living abroad. Even after he looked way from the pages, the words in her journal continued to echo in his head as if he was peeling away her mystery one layer at a time. Still, a part of him was ashamed to be spying into her private thoughts. He had not been raised to disrespect the privacy of others, and to blatantly intrude into the secret world of a woman's thoughts went against the very grain of his Southern honor.

Yet, reading her written thoughts only made him feel closer to her in a way he had never felt with a woman before. No longer was he on the outside peering through the glass into a world of intimacy he had only witnessed in other couples. Now he knew without a doubt what she felt inside. He saw her pain, her sadness, her hopes, her fears and more importantly… he understood them. Her world had been completely wiped out in the course of one horrific night.

When his mother died hadn't he felt the same way?

But her heartfelt story and words of loss over her husband gave him insight that was not exactly welcomed. It was hard for him to read about her feelings for another man. Yet, he couldn't dismiss them either. She had been married and very much in love with her husband and the way he was taken from her couldn't have been more horrifying. Malachi had literally been ripped from her grasp and carried off into the dark jungle screaming her name.

Although he hadn't yet reached the conclusion of the Guardian's search for Malachi, Doc already knew what was to come. Obviously, Alex's husband had met a fate worse than death, leaving his bereaved wife no choice but to try to end his demonic existence in order to stop his reign of terror. Only then would she be able to pick up the pieces of her shattered life. No wonder she was so hesitant to become involved in a new romance with him. How could she start to love another man when her former love still stalked the earth slaughtering innocents at every opportunity. Doc frowned as he tried to place himself in her position. If their roles were reversed he never would have had the strength to love again. It amazed him that Alex had the capacity to open her heart at all. Women might be small and weak when compared to men in general, but there was no doubt in his mind they were truly the stronger sex.

He rolled another smoke and continued to read on.

**September 10, 2001 **

_Sister Margaret read to me today. This makes the third time this week. How kind and understanding the sisters have been. How hard it will be for me to return home and not have their comfort and support. As Sister Margaret was leaving she reminded me of an old saying, "Whenever God closes a door, somewhere he will open a window." My mother used to say that and I had forgotten. Thinking of my parents only set me into another bout of tears but I managed to hold them off until after Sister M had left. _

**September 12, 2001 **

_I sat with a young village boy and his mother today. The child is only about six years old. Whatever ailment plagues him has settled into his lungs. His breathing was terrible to listen to. How hard he fought to take in each and every breath. This mission is not equipped to handle a respiratory condition like this, and although the doctor and nuns are doing all that they can to help the child, it was very apparent he was slowly dying. At least that is what I thought, but as I sat and held his hand he suddenly came around. He perked up and was able to breathe much better and without his oxygen. By mid- afternoon he was eating and talking to his mother in his wonder dialect. _

_The doctor is extremely puzzled over his recovery, but the nuns only said a prayer of thanks and praised God. _

_Another night's rest, and another nightmare of Malachi's haunting return. In last night's dream I am back home and attending Malachi's funeral. His coffin sits at the front of the funeral parlor open and on display. I am alone as I walk toward him and kneel by his side in prayer. I can clearly see his peaceful face as he lies on a pillow of white satin dressed in a dark suit and blanketed in a bed of red roses. My grief is profound even in my dreams. After my prayers are finished I rise stiffly from my knees and lean over the coffin to kiss his mouth one last time and just as I turn away I feel his cold, dead hand clamp mine as he slowly rises from the coffin with shining yellow eyes. _

**September 15, 2001 **

_It has happened again. Today I decided to help the nuns with their care of the sick. Sister Margaret and I were changing the bedding of an older woman who had been struck with a system wide infection. The poor woman suffered with large swollen glands under her armpits and around her neck. The doctor has her on a strong antibiotic, which seems to be working but rather slowly. We had just finished with our patient when she took a turn for the better. By the afternoon she was helping us feed the other patients who are too ill to feed themselves. _

_Again our good doctor is puzzle by these strange events. _

**September 16, 2001 **

_Another miraculous recovery, only this time the doctor believes I had something to do with it. How absurd! _

**_Later_**_… I found out the doctor had secretly sent for my medical and historical records from the Guardians, and after a careful study he is convinced I am responsible for healing the three patients. Of course I told him it was silly of him to believe that, but he insisted on proof. The commander of the replacement unit was called in to witness, as were two of the nuns. Then before I could protest the doctor cut the hand of the commander; I was then instructed to touch the injured hand and think of it healing. How astounded I was when the wound disappeared before my eyes. _

_What does all this mean? _

_My nightmares of Malachi continue. _

**September 25, 2001 **

_I've been very busy and have missed making an entry into this journal. A Guardian instructor was called in and I have been learning about my new gift. We spend hours and hours sitting and mediating and then more hours are spent healing the sick. I have learned a great deal about my limits and how to control my new power. After three days of practice I am able to turn off my ability so that I am not healing people at random. There is also a limit to what I can do at one period of time before I must rest and rejuvenate my energy. _

_The nuns tell me to be thankful for my gift, but I'm not so sure I am. Already I feel a terrible burden. There are so many sick people in the world. Do I dare take on the responsibility to try to heal some of them? Still, I would willingly give it up to have Malachi and the other members of my unit back again. _

_My time here at the mission is coming to an end. We never did find any trace of Malachi or the vampires that attacked us. The replacement until will accompany me back to Europe. We leave tomorrow. _

**September 30, 2001, Rome, Italy **

_As much as I enjoyed the quiet solitude of the mission, I confess it feels nice to be back in civilization again. I have made my report to my superiors. My loss is deeply felt throughout our organization and everyone has been most kind. _

_I have decided to take an extended leave of absence and return to Maine even though I was pressured to stay and recuperate within the confines of the training center. The Guardians are very interested in my new gift but I have downplayed it as much as I could. _

_Arthur is here to stand by my side and I am very thankful to have his support. At his insistence, all questions concerning my gift will be stalled for the time being. This is a great relief for me. I couldn't stand to be poked and prodded at like a lab rat. Not when all I truly want is to return home to grieve in peace and solitude. _

_I have made arrangements to fly home first thing tomorrow morning. _

**October 4, 2001 – Maine, Home **

_Home, sweet, home. Or is it? One part of me is relieved to be home and another is heartbroken to be here alone, again. Twice now I have come to this house after the death of a loved one. First my parents and now Mal. _

_Soon I will start to organize and begin to remove his belongings. But first I must answer all the correspondence that has acuminated since Malachi's death. My answering machine was full and the mailman has left a note for me to pick up my mail at the post office. I must also speak to Mal's family. I know they've been told of his death but they are anxious to speak with me personally. I've no good news to tell them. _

**October 9, 2001 **

_Have caught up on my letters and phone calls. _

_Malachi's brother has begged me to come to Scotland for a visit and to recuperate with his family. The thought of traveling right now exhausts me. I've promised to spend the Christmas holiday with his family. Just the thought of Christmas brings me to tears. How can I look at other people's happy family and forbear? But it is only October and I have three months to think of an excuse. _

_The local priest has been to visit today. The Guardians have spoken to him about my welfare and he has agreed to watch over me. I have promised to attend church next Sunday. _

_P.S. My nightmares have followed me home and I find I am more nervous here. I dread every knock at the front door. _

Doc put the journal down as he lit another smoke. He stared out the window for several minutes as he pondered over what he had read. It was obvious that Alex strongly suspected Malachi had been turned and that her dreams were a reflection of her fear. He remembered clearly the nightmare she had the night he had slept in her room over the saloon. Her moaning and whimpering had woken him and when he gently shook her shoulder to wake her she had reached up and practically pushed him off the bed. That was when he had grabbed her by the wrist to stop her from assaulting him further and so he could shake her harder into waking. Her reaction had scared him to pieces. She immediately began to scream with terror. When he called to her sharply she snapped out of her dream state, although she never really fully woke up.

The next morning she had said she didn't remember but Doc had a funny feeling she wanted to avoid talking about her nightmares.

There were other things in her journal that had him wondering. How did she manage to travel from one continent to another so quickly? Did she really travel from Rome to the states in a matter of a few days, and what the hell was an answering machine? Also, how did she manage to communicate with Malachi's brother in Scotland? He knew telephone lines were rapidly emerging all across the United States but surely transcontinental communication was not possible. And who the hell was Arthur?

There was also her astounding claim to heal. Could it be true? If he looked at the picture as a puzzle, and if he put all the pieces together one by one, it made sense. Her remarkable physical condition earlier and his miraculous recovery all fit together. If Alex could heal people then she had bestowed upon him a tremendous gift, which he had not recognized, nor been very thankful. Once again an earlier conversation with her came back to haunt him, as if all along she had been trying to tell him he was cured.

_"All consumptives drink, Alex. It is either whiskey or laudanum. They are the only two things that kill the pain in my chest and throat." _

_"You are in pain now?" _

_"I'm… No, I'm not in pain now. This is funny." _

_"Funny? I would think you'd be pleased." _

There was also the incident in the kitchen, during their first fight, when a strong spasm had practically rendered him unconscious. At the time he didn't give it much thought, but now that he looked back on the event he had recovered from the attack very quickly. Too quickly. One minute he was spitting blood and struggling for breath and the next he had felt remarkably well. Alex had embraced him for the very first time that night while on her knees and with one hand pressed against his chest and the other on his back. He was almost certain her touch had been more than affectionate. Had she somehow aided him that evening?

He filled his glass again and began to sum things up. Vampires, time traveling Guardians, and a gifted young woman who had loved him enough to give him a second chance at life. It was a lot to take in, let alone believe. But the funny thing was, he was beginning to believe. Spoken aloud it would sound like the product of madness. Maybe his emotional involvement was coloring his perspective. Was love enough to turn a blind eye to her lies and believe anything she said. He needed proof, or if solid evidence was not available, then he would settle for a second opinion. Wyatt would have to be his anchor with reality. If Wyatt's keen sense of logic and perception matched his own beliefs then he had done Alex a great injustice. If that was the case, he would spend eternity on his knees begging for her forgiveness. But if he found her story to be a complete scam then he would….

Would what? Turn his back on her let her battle against her monster husband alone and unaided? No, he could never to that and live with himself afterwards. He'd be damned if he would sit here locked safely away while she met certain death with just her two friends by her side. And if she did manage to triumph over the fiend, what then? She would leave and return home. Now he knew where her home was, why she couldn't stay behind, and why he couldn't come with her. He cursed softly under his breath. Christ, what a damn mess. No wonder she was so upset. No wonder she wept with such abandon the other night as he loved her.

Everything now made complete sense to him, but he was no better off then he was before.


	45. The Truth of a Terrible Burden

**A/N: For those of you who are new to Western History, particularly the story about Tombstone, October 26, 2007 will be the 126 anniversary of the gunfight at the OK Corral. 126 years is a long time, don't you think? Doc Holliday died in Glenwood Springs, CO, 6 years later on November 8, 1887. Isn't it amazing that we're still studying, thinking and dreaming about this man? What is it about him that is so damn interesting?

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**Chapter 44 – The Truth of a Terrible Burden **

He reached for his pocket watch sitting on the table and noted the time – one o'clock in the afternoon. The household was still asleep and here he sat stone sober and pondering the mysteries before him, more upset now then he was before. Again he picked up the journal and continued to read her story.

The next several entries were unexceptional. She spoke about her feelings of lost and guilt over her husband. She made several notations regarding visits from neighbors and the local priest relaying their condolences. Mostly she stayed alone in her solitary world. Then he came to one entry that peaked his interest.

**November 26, 2001 – Thanksgiving Week**

_Holidays are hard for me. Since the death of my parents I have felt their lost the greatest during the holidays. Even after I was married I still felt alone and singular. That family unity I once had as a child is gone. Gone and lost forever. Now as I watch other people visiting with their family I feel so alone. _

_Malachi never understood this, even though I tried my best to explain it to him. Instead of listening to what I felt he took it as a criticism against his family, which he thought I should feel a part of now that I was his wife. But how could I expect him to understand when he had never experienced the lost I have. Both his parents are still alive and he has his brother's family to revel in. No one but another orphan could completely understand my point of view. _

_But this wasn't the first or only thing Mal and I disagreed on. There have been other points of contention between us. It was only during the last year of our marriage when our differences overwhelmed me to the point I considered making a major life change. _

_Dare I say it? Divorce. There it is, the big "D" word. I doubt Malachi realized how unhappy I had been. It wasn't one big thing that drove a wedge between us, but many smaller things combined. Our different preferences on life style and opinions on family were two of the biggest topics we argued about. I wanted children. He did not. _

_There were others differences that came to light the longer we stayed together. Competition. Not competition of sports, but competition over social status. My family connections and inheritance always made Malachi uneasy. How many times I offered to cast aside my money and yet he refused to let it go, but he also refused to spend it. To me the money meant death. How could I find joy spending the insurance money when I had received it at the cost of my parent's lives? I would have gladly given it away. _

_No matter how much I loved him, he never felt that he was good enough, which drove him to constantly stride to improve our lifestyle. It wasn't a spiritual growth he sought but wealth and fame. To me it was silly. He had no idea how I idolized him just as he was. He was my role model as I struggled during my training to become a Guardian. Strength, leadership, nerves of steel and confidence in the field were what I saw in him and not always in myself. His mind alone impressed me. How calculating he was. He could see a position in battle and turn it toward his advantage better than other operative. How beautiful he was training shirtless with a sword in one hand and a dagger in the other, his dark hair flying and his blue eyes sharp with cunning and the excitement of the battle. Many of the other girls had tried to hold his attention, yet I was the one who got to hold his heart. _

_Where did things to so wrong between us? Why was our love never enough for him? _

_Shortly after our marriage he began to feel uneasy about social status and almost at once began to look for ways to achieve greater success. Grant it, anonymity does get in the way. We had a cover to maintain and a quick climb up the social latter would drawl suspicion. Yet Mal wanted recognition and the wealth and fame recognition brought with it. Appearances were utmost on his mind. What would make him look better to others was what he thought about, and while he thought about that he thought less and less about me. We were often going in two different directions. _

_I wanted to return home to Maine and live a peaceful life in this small yet sufficient cottage. My dream was to pursue a teaching position and raise a family. Malachi refused to give me children and the common life of a teacher or instructor no longer appealed to him. He wanted enough money to obtain a mansion and to live like a celebrity. _

_Not long after we married, I began to notice how secretive he had become. He was often distracted and would wander off alone and I had the feeling he was hiding something from me. _

_Something was seriously wrong between us. Yet whenever I seemed despondent or rejected he took great pains to sooth my feelings and show me how much he loved me. Our last vacation together was the last time I felt close to him. During our stay at his brother's home he seemed to finally focus on us and not the material world. If only I had managed to conceive a child I might have a small piece of my husband left to comfort me. But even that small joy has been denied me. _

_I don't know why I bother to put these dark thoughts down on paper. No good can come from it, unless I inadvertently find some peace among the words and sentences in this journal. I struggle to understand events, my marriage and the man I married. I am uneasy, distracted and feel like I somehow failed to be the wife Malachi wanted. Where did I go wrong?_

_I guess I will never know what happened that night in the jungle. I have tried to piece that night together to form a greater understanding of the attack and why the demons took my husband from me, but I have come to no conclusion. Maybe it is nothing more than bad luck. We met a strong enemy in the darkness. We were attacked and my unit was killed. Only I survived to tell the tale. Perhaps there is no mystery or great plot against us. Guardian units have been attacked and killed before. It is part of the job, nothing more, nothing less._

Finally, another piece of her puzzle came to light. He now understood why she didn't kill that monster when she had the chance. At the time he had stood transfixed by their conversation. It's not often that a man gets to witness a private conversation between the woman he loves and her dead husband. But Spike had been right when he scolded her for not staking Malachi when she had the opportunity. Obviously, Alex's tormented heart needed resolution and a conclusion to her unhappy marriage. Doc knew the answers she was looking for would never be found. She was trying to resolve a history with a man who was dead, leaving a monster behind to account for his feelings and behavior. Only a fool would take what that demon said as fact and Alex was no fool. The answers that she sought were now lost forever. Sadly, her feelings of guilt and discontentment would have to be suppressed.

Her words about family were haunting and familiar. It was another life experience that he had in common with Alex. Doc often thought the same things during the holidays, particular since he left his home in Georgia. He could understand how she felt. Watching other people enjoy their family life can be heartbreaking for anyone who lost that unity forever. Striding to rebuild that family feeling can be next to impossible. His family had been a close one, yet after his mother's death things had slowly disintegrated between he and his father to the point where neither of them could occupy the same room together without issuing bitter words. There had been some small measure of comfort he received from his mother's relatives, but it was only a temporary comfort that could never replace the original sense of place one feels when in the presence of one's own family.

As for her need to have children, he could relate to that as well. Alex's marriage was not what it should have been, and her need to have children was a wound that had been festering slowly. Now he understood her painful expression that morning after their first night together when he had first inquired if she had any children. Even he was having trouble understanding why Malachi would reject her and he could sympathize with her feelings. In all the years he had spent with Kate, he had asked her several times to give him a child. She never really refused him, but she might have if she had stopped laughing long enough.

The next several entries pertained to her packing her husband's things. She had taken great care in organizing and storing his possessions in a storage facility in town, keeping only a few mementos at home to remember him. Several weeks later the manager of the storage facility reported a break in and the theft of several items consisting mostly of Malachi's old weapons and clothing. Alex had noted the date of the break in apparently feeling it was significant somehow. At the time she only suspected who the thief might have been but it wasn't until late winter when her suspicions were confirmed.

She still disliked leaving her home during the Christmas holidays but felt a call to her brother-in-law's home was overdue. After arriving, when the first awkward moments passed, she seemed to enjoy herself and made several notations about the festivities and the growth of her niece and nephew. After Christmas she _flew_ home? Doc couldn't fathom what she meant by flew? Surely people didn't actually fly in the 21st century? There had to be another explanation. Perhaps her wording was slang and actually had a different meaning. Still, it wouldn't explain how she managed to travel so quickly from Scotland back to Maine.

Throughout the winter she mostly stayed at home. She noted several heavy snowfalls and extremely cold conditions. Apparently the New England coast received the worst of old man winter's blast.

Doc had experienced heavy snow and cold temperature while living in Kansas. At first it had been fun to watch this white phenomena fall from the sky. Being born and bred in Georgia, snow was exciting for him, but that emotion quickly passed after several days of walking in the cold frozen roads when the wind would blow hard enough to pass through several layers of clothing. When he contracted yet another bout of pneumonia he made sure to spend his future winters in the Southwest. Freezing temperature and snow were not conducive for a consumptive to thrive in.

Nothing of significance happened throughout the winter months and it seemed to him that Alex was relieved to make note of the common day-to-day things she had been denied for so long. When the weather permitted she would go out with a friend or take a trip into town for a shopping spree. She even made an entry about flying to Paris to visit her aunt and uncle. There she took several cooking classes with her aunt adding to her knowledge of the culinary art she had started in boarding school. He was amused to find she wrote down several recipes in her journal one of them being the meal she had prepared the first day they met. In late March she left her family to return to Maine even though they pressured her to stay with them. It was obvious that her connection with her aunt and uncle was not a strong one, which Doc knew stemmed from their cold and callus treatment to her after her parent's death. Her reaction to their behavior in no way equaled his explosive reaction to his father's untimely marriage three months after his mother's death but in her heart Alex certainly felt the same as he.

There was an overall theme to the last several entries in her journal that captured his attention, and that was the boring and mundane things she wrote about. The tone and subjects she wrote about were changing the longer she was separated from the Guardian organization, and this pleased him. She no longer wrote about vampires, dark entities, fighting techniques and the weapons she carried. Her entries were now about normal feminine routines. She made lists of things she intended to do, books she wanted to read, notes on the weather and people who came to visit. He had been concerned that her training had become so ingrained in her nature she could no longer live among normal people and be happy in that environment, but from what he had been reading this wasn't the case. With a sigh of relief, he reread the recipe for the veal dish she made and knew that given the chance, he could make her very happy living in a normal world. A chance is what he needed and wished for more than anything else.

One thing about her journal entries that still had him concerned was her reoccurring nightmares about Malachi. Sometimes she wrote in great detail about the contents of her dreams, which were mostly dark frightening visions of her dead husband returning to her as less than human and wanting her still. At other times she merely noted the episode. Evidently, Alex was feeling a great deal of stress and guilt over her husband's death. Doc now knew it was a state of mind she carried with her still. He was once again ridden with shame and guilt for not recognizing the strain she was under. He of all people should have been sensitive to her feelings, but instead he had been selfish and thought only of himself.

He clearly recalled one evening not long after he met Alex, when he had intended to go to Wyatt's house but somehow he found himself standing outside of the Oriental's backdoor. One small light shone in the rear window so he quietly walked up and peaked in.

A single candle burned inside and Alex was seated at the small table that stood near the stove, a steaming cup of tea before her. He had noticed it was her habit to have a calming cup of tea before retiring. To him it always seemed like a gentle and composed ritual to end a busy day. He now knew that what he had interpreted as serenity was really solitude or isolation. Now he knew the truth. She had carried a burden, a terrible burden, and she had done it all with a silent strength that brought the heat of shame to his face. He had been closer to her than Wyatt, Virgil or Morgan; he should have seen something was wrong. But she had not asked for his help, and yet when the truth came to light instead of offering to help he had spit on her and turned away from her in anger.

In March she had decided to put aside her grief and pursue a long desired teaching career. She had inquired about employment at the local school and had eagerly started all the necessary paperwork to begin as a substitute teacher for the elementary school. And even though this part of her life had nothing to do with him, he was happy for her. For once she was finding some true happiness and was excited about the future. It was also apparent that she had no plans to return to the Guardians anytime soon and had gently told her friend Arthur this when he had phoned her. There was still no clue as to who Arthur was, but Doc got the impression from her entries, that he was a close friend who was associated with the Guardians and not a lover.

When he flipped to the next page he saw her happiness would not last. The next couple entries had him sitting on the edge of his chair.

**April 9, 2002**

_We've had series of storms lately, which have made me very uneasy. I don't like bad weather. I will make sure to stock up on candles and firewood when next I venture into town just in case we loose power._

_My nightmares grow increasingly worse. The images in my dreams haunt me even during the day now. The storms only aggravate my nerves even more. Perhaps it is time I speak to my doctor. _

**April 11, 2002**

_God help me he is here, and pacing across my front porch even as I write this. I can hardly hold the pen my hand trembles so badly. _

_It is storming again and snow is coming down sideways as it often does along the coast. At first I thought the knocking was just another rough wind pounding on my door. I didn't expect to find anyone standing at my front door when I opened it. How wrong I was. _

_There he stood smiling at me with joyful tears in his eyes, looking very much alive and whole. He was dressed in a parka I had never seen before and his face was pale from the cold, or so I thought at first. I was so taken back at the sight of him I almost leaped into his arms. God help me but a part of me was so glad to see Malachi again I almost didn't care what condition he returned to me. But my training held me fast. I stayed on the other side of the door and waited. _

_He tried to talk his way in, explaining that a mistake had been made. That he had been sick with fever in a remote section of the jungle and had been cared for by a jungle tribe. He told me how he had travel back to the state to see me first before making his report to Rome. His story of how he had been missing me and how he had worried about my welfare almost had me fooled, but I'm glad I waited. I was nearly frozen from standing in the open doorway, but that wasn't what had me visibly shaking. Finally, I took a step backward and looked imploring at him. After several intense moments he knew I would never invite him in and that is when his true self showed through. _

_What frighten me the most was not the sight of a vampire-husband, but that he still wanted me to be his wife and fully expected me to join him in his dark world. When I told him under no circumstances would I ever consider joining him, he became enraged. I slammed the door in his face and when I locked it I heard him laugh loudly._

_Even as I write this he is still ranting and raging at me. Every few minutes he peers in the window. I intend to flee at the first sight of dawn. Until then I will sit like a coward in front of the fireplace and wait. _

**April 18, 2002 – London **

_I have taken refuge in London with Arthur. My emotions came to a head when I finally sat in the safety of his town home. Arthur immediately took control – something he is so good at – and sat me down with a large brandy while he made the necessary phone calls to alert the proper channels regarding Malachi's resurrection. Then, like the professional he is, he painstakingly took down my story word for word for the archives. I told him everything: my fears, my horrible dreams of Malachi, the break-in at the storage facility, and my worry for the other Guardians and our families, Mal's as well as mine. Of all this, dear Arthur was more concerned about my wellbeing and mental state. How good it felt to have someone fuss over me again. Once my tale was told exhaustion sunk in, which might have been a combination of the brandy and my lengthy confession. Arthur insisted I go to bed and that we would continue to 'handle' the situation tomorrow. _

_For the first time in days I slept well and was not bothered by dark dreams. I wish with all my heart I could stay here in this house, sheltered by my friend and hidden from the outside world. But this can never be so. I must prepare myself for the coming days ahead. I have a promise to keep to my lost love, a vow that was taken not long before we wed that I must fulfill. How I will ever find the strength to do this is beyond me at the moment, but I must try. My task, my promise, is to hunt and kill the thing that has taken over my husband and send the demon within back to hell where it belongs. _

**April/May 2002 – Rome**

_Arthur and I have traveled to Rome. A meeting has been called to discuss the situation regarding Malachi with the leaders of our order. A question has been put to me, and even though I was prepared to answer this question, I still faltered and collapsed into an emotional mess during the meeting. I was asked if I wanted to resurrect Malachi's soul and return it to his body. It would be a simple solution to the present problem. Once his soul had returned, the demon within him could be controlled. This solution has been performed for others of our order who met a similar fate. But it is a horrifying way for the individual to live – to be alive but not part of the living, eternally tormented by the monster inside with a relentless need for blood. Only the strongest have survived this existence. Most choose to face the sun rather than live in limbo. Thank God, Malachi had previously expressed his feelings about this, and had given me instructions on how to respond to the question at hand. My final answer was simply no! The demon who inhabits my husband must die. . _

_My task will not be an easy one. Already Malachi had proven to be a strong adversary. Those members of my organization who have encountered him since he was turned have been killed. So far the number lost is 12. Because of Malachi's status within the organization and his advanced training and abilities, it has been suggested that I contact an expert for help. His name is Angelus, or as he likes to be called, Angel. He allegedly has had some success dealing with difficult situations. While I wait for the Guardians to make contact, and hopefully obtain an invitation to meet Angel, Arthur and I will remain at the training complex for another few weeks to study the evidence gathered by the Guardians on Malachi. We hope it will give us some clues to his movements. _

**June 28, 2002**

_I don't know if it is fate or divine providence, but Malachi was seen in Las Vegas two days ago. As it turns out, contact with Angel has been made and he has agreed to meet with me. I leave for America tonight. I feel like I am finally taking some action. _

_PS: After studying Malachi's movements, Arthur and I still couldn't make rhyme or reason of what he is doing. _

**July 13, 2002 – California, Los Angeles **

_I am in California to seek the help of strong ally. Angel has graciously accepted my plea for help, which has relieved my anxiety tremendously. For some reason Malachi has decided to dog me but always stays out of reach. I have spotted him several times since my arrival. Why does he persist in tormenting me? Surely he knows I seek to destroy him? Twice now he has pleaded with me to join him. Is this why he stays close to me, to try and convince me to be his wife again? _

**July 25, 2002**

_No sign of Malachi in 5 days. While I wait I have offered my services to assist Angel in his help of others. He has a very solid business in LA. There are so many who need his aid. This place is crawling with evil in every form. Tonight I spoke to Arthur and gave him a progress report. I also suggested he place some Guardians in the LA area to help even the odds. _

**August 5, 2002 – Maine**

_Still no sign of Malachi. Angel has suggested I fly home and close up my house. While there I can also see if Malachi has returned to the storage facility. Since my abrupt departure in April I haven't had the opportunity to return. The local priest was kind enough to gather my mail and take care of the little things on my behalf. Before I leave this time I will hire a caretaker to see to the place in my absence. _

_I have met with my lawyer and made all the necessary arrangements should anything happen to me. Arthur, of course, will be in charge of my estate. He knows me better than anyone and I trust him like a father. _

_Perhaps it is my mood stemming from my recent tasks, but I feel that this is the last time I will ever see my home. This strong feeling has prompted me to take a few mementoes with me before I leave. I could never leave with out my photo album with pictures of my family and my wedding, and of course I will take my jewelry that consists of my wedding rings and my mother's jewelry she left for me in her will. There is not much else I really need. My very existence has been summoned up by a few family possessions and a bag of weaponry. What kind of life have I made for myself? _

_The storage facility has indeed been broken into again, only this time Malachi made sure to lock up after he left. I noted the absence of several items which told me he had been there, although I'm not sure exactly when._

_I head back to California tomorrow._

**August 17, 2002 – California, Los Angeles **

_Malachi is here and has approached me again__ but what a surprise he got when Angel and his friend Spike appeared to stand by my side. Two strong allies are better than one. Malachi did not expect me to seek Angel's help. Unfortunately, he got away. _

_Tomorrow Angel, Spike and I will team up again and see if we can't track him down. _

Doc flipped to the next page and saw the next entry started in the year 1881 and her first entry in this era. He had finished her sad story. Finally, he had the answers to the mystery that surrounded her. Unfortunately, he still lacked the contentment he thought he would find once he learned of her origin and background. No matter the outcome, both he and Alex would loose in the game of chance they were playing. If she managed to win the battle against her demon husband, then she would return home. Or, she could be walking into a certain death, which was very probable considering Malachi had already killed a dozen Guardians. Either way they could never be together, a reality that was not to his liking. But he would not despair just yet. Time was still on his side and the game wasn't finished.

He set the book face down on his lap and rolled a smoke. There was one small problem that had him concerned and that was Alex's anger. He wondered how livid she would be when she arrived tonight and found him here waiting for her, because there was no way he was leaving until he had a chance to apologize.

"_And you…lover. I don't ever want to lay eyes on you again. Is that clear enough for you?"_

"_I deserve an explanation too, Alex." _

"_And you'll get one, when you hear it second hand from Wyatt. If I see you at Virgil's tonight I'll toss your ass out to the wilds and whatever might be lurking in them." _

He snapped a match and pulled hard on his smoke. She couldn't possibly mean what she said. His reaction to her deception was not entirely his fault. After all, she had mislead him, and considering the special circumstances surrounding her true identity, he felt his reaction was…

"_All along you knew what the threat was and who was doing it, and yet you said NOTHING! Why?!"_

"_I'm sorry. I tried… tried to help. I'm so sorry, John."_

"_My friends are hurt because of you, Alex. My best friend's wife is dead because of you. This is all your fault. Clean up your own wounds Alex, and leave me to clean up mine."_

It was damn cold that's what it was. He had let his temper get the better of him again. And, as usual, after he calmed down and had time to think things through, he was more reasonable and open to compromise. But would Alex feel the same way or would she be a woman who held a grudge? He could only surmise from some of the decisions she made in her journal that she had a level head, but like most women was also emotional and sentimental. He hoped the woman in her would remember how good they were together before she threw his ass out the front door.

Her decision to not restore her husband's soul was shocking and heartbreaking at the same time. He could only imagine how she must have felt making that decision. In a way, she was sentencing him to death. But she had said she was following her husband's wishes. Did Malachi know in detail how a vampire with a soul would feel, and what it must be like living that way?

He fanned through the pages he had read while sitting in the Oriental and was surprised when a loose sheet of stationary floated out from between the pages of the journal and landed on the floor. He leaned over to pick it up and received another shock.

**September 1881 (Day 15 - Morning**)  
**(Written on a piece of stationary from J.H. Holliday's desk.)**

_I write this now with hope of piecing it into my journal later. If for some reason I am unable to complete my mission I leave this as a record of my actions. _

_God forgive me, I have done the unmentionable. But I find it hard to be sorry for what I did. Mostly I am worried about the repercussions it will have, but sorry…no I am not. There will be a price to pay when I return home to my time, but for now I will secretly rejoice in the only truly good thing I have done since coming to this time. _

_John Henry Holliday will not die of consumption and if I can manipulate the situation further he will live to see his grandchildren flourish._

Her written words finally brought his suspicious to light. So, it was true. She had healed him of his sickness. He laid the book down and with shaky hands poured another drink.

His mind continuously questioned the facts and evidence, but in his heart he was beginning to believe. Could it be real? Did she really possess the ability to heal the sick? Was he was cured? Could that be the reason why she wanted him to return home? In her mind, she knew he could have the life he really wanted and was desperately trying to push him in the right direction. He couldn't help but wonder if she would have returned to her time and not have told him. But he immediately shook his head at the thought. No, Alex would never have done that.

According to her note, and from what he had been secretly suspecting, she must have healed him sometime during their first night together. He only remembered bits and pieces of that strange night spent with her in his room. Yes, he remembered the passionate embrace they had shared, no amount of drink or drug invented could ever strike that memory from his brain, but other aspects of that evening were still a blur.

The ride back from the Clanton ranch back had been grueling. Every jolt from the horse, every bump in the road sent waves of pain coursing through his chest and back. It took every ounce of his strength and will power to stay seated on the horse. The ride seemed to take forever and as the seconds ticked by he found it harder and harder to breathe. By the time Wyatt and Morgan had helped climb the stairs to his room he was feverish and drifting in and out of consciousness.

He remembered Dr. Goodfellow prodding him into answering several questions as he made his examination, but after he tasted the sweet laudanum administered by the good doctor he finally drifted into blissful unconsciousness.

He had no recollection of when Alex had entered his room or how long she had been there before she decided to crawl into bed with him. The first thing he remembered vividly was the throbbing, pleasured filled ache between his legs accompanied by the heady aroma of Alex's bath soap. That's how he knew what he was experiencing was not a dream but reality. Then he saw her lying next to him with her arms and legs entwined in his as he leaned over her body. The sensation of her bare legs rubbing against him brought him to a new level of consciousness. It was then he noticed the pain in his chest was gone. For the first time in eight long years he clearly remembered filling his lungs with air and not feeling the pressure to cough or the sharp poke of pain as his lungs tried to perform the way God intended them to.

But those thoughts were fleeting as the passion he felt for her began to consume him. After that, reasonable thought would not reside within his brain until the next morning. As he enjoyed her company the next day, he waited and waited for his disease to make itself known again…

But it never did.

He looked down at the loose page in his hand and read the words again. Repercussions? What kind of repercussions? Why would the Guardian organization care if he lived to be an old man? Following that thought came the realization that Alex must have know all along he would die, which meant she must have know when he would die. This only led him to wonder what consequence could a rotten gamble like himself have on the world that history would note the time and day of his death?

When a sudden bout of irritation surged through him, he sprang to his feet and began to pace the room. _God damn her_. No wonder she resisted getting involved with him. Not only did she know he would die, but then she would have to go back to her time and relive the event over again, knowing she must not disturb history or change it in any way. Yet she had gone against her training and what she knew was the right thing to do. She had saved him because she loved him and what thanks did he show her for doing this…why, none of course. Instead he had shown her disdain and turned his back on her when she needed him the most.

He passed his hand through his hair as he tried to breathe against the pain in his tormented heart. He had made a grave error and his only hope for deliverance was to beg for her forgiveness.

He picked up the journal again to insert the page back into the proper sequence when he saw an envelope poking out from the back of the book. He was surprised to find it was addressed to him and he wondered why Alex had taken it. Inside was a single sheet of paper and after reading the first passage he realized immediately why she had hidden this from him. He touched his hand to the inside of his arm as he struggled to remember. When she came over tonight this would be one of the first things he would demand she explain. If it meant what he thought it meant, he owed her a great debt twice over, which for some reason only increased his agitation.

He snubbed out his smoke as he rubbed his hand over his face and felt the rough stubble over his cheeks and chin. The sun was descending its arc. The day was almost over. It seemed like a good idea to wash and shave while he had a moment to himself before the others woke.

Out back behind the cottage, Doc found the well house and inside a large bucket with a bar of soap, a small mirror and Virgil's razor sitting along side the water pump. Apparently, the lawman found it easier to wash outside rather than tote pails of water inside to fill up the small tub hanging in the kitchen. He hoped Virgil wouldn't take exception to him borrowing his blade for a quick shave.

The air was just a little too cold to wash outdoors, but it wasn't the first time Doc had withstood the elements in order to be clean. There were plenty of times while residing in those makeshift cow-towns when he had been forced to wash in an open stream or over a cold bucket of water in his room. Especially when he lived in Texas and had no choice but to wash in the cold or go around dirty and unkempt. At least the wooden structure that surrounded the water pump gave him some protection from the wind. He shrugged out of his clothes, and stood naked inside the well house as he began to wash. With a tinge of guilt he washed the last traces of Alex's blood off his hands and tried to treat the stains on his clothes.

He was partially dressed and was just drying his face when Wyatt popped his head inside the small shack and nodded in greeting. "Thought I heard someone out here."

"Sorry if disturbed your rest, Wyatt." Doc replied has he began to don his undershirt. "I thought I'd embrace the moment with a quick wash and shave." He leaned over the small looking glass and tried his best to comb his hair.

"It sounds like a good idea for all of us to wash and freshen up while the sun is still up. After sunset I plan on taking Alex's advice very seriously." Wyatt nodded toward the descending sun noting its angle. "We've got only a couple more hours of daylight left." He looked at his friend's bare legs and then back toward the house. "You might want to get your trousers on Doc. Josie got up with me and will be coming out here for water in a moment."

"Indeed. I don't want to offend Ms. Marcus's feminine disposition with a breach of etiquette." He reached for his trousers and had one leg firmly covered when he noticed the scar, or lack there of. "Christ." He hissed and almost fell over before Wyatt caught him by the elbow.

"Easy Doc. No need to rush and hurt yourself."

"No, Wyatt it's not that. Look at my knee." He pointed for further emphasis. "It's gone." He laughed out loud once and grinned widely at Wyatt's confused look.

"Doc, I don't follow." He opened the door further to allow more light to shine in as he struggled to see in the dimly lit structure.

"My scar! It's proof, cold hard proof! I mean, Dr. Goodfellow had given me a sound diagnosis, but shit, I didn't believe a word he said." Doc beamed brightly in his excitement, his smile becoming larger by the second.

Wyatt began to look a little more confused before he narrowed his eyes with suspicion. "Are you drunk Doc? Sometimes it's hard to tell with you."

"No! Wyatt, look closer at my leg."

He leaned forward to look at the white limb. "Well, I can't say it's a pretty leg but they might do in a pinch." A small grin began to turn up the corners of his mouth. Doc just had to be loused. There just wasn't any other explanation for his confusing dialog.

Doc stepped out of his pants and flung the material over his arm as he prepared to completely explain his reasoning. "I had a scar on my knee from an injury when I was six. I fell on a piece of glass and cut the dickens out of my knee. That scar is now completely gone. Don't you see she must have healed the damn scar too? Maybe she did it for evidence." He peeked out the door and toward the house to make sure Josie wasn't approaching, and began to slip on his pants again.

"Alex? Are you talking about Alex? What did she do to you Doc? I don't follow."

"No, of course you don't." He declared and then grabbed the rest of his clothing as he marched barefoot across the yard and into the house with Wyatt feeling slightly bewildered and towing behind him.

Even though he had been feeling extremely well recently, Alex's claims of her miraculous ability to heal had shaken his view of reality. He was not a man who had a strong belief in the spiritual realm. To be completely convinced he needed proof. Something he could see and touch. Doc considered the missing scar on his knee as hard evidence. He had lived with that mark for more than twenty years and everyday that he looked at it reminded him of his mother. Now that it was gone a part of him would miss seeing it, yet he couldn't help but be excited by its mysterious disappearance.

He had been six when the incident occurred and still sporting knickers, not being old enough for pants yet. He had been playing a game of tag in a field not too far from his house, and had fallen on a piece of glass while running to keep up with his older cousins with whom he often played. He remembered it had been a very deep cut that went down to the bone. By the time he had run all the way home with tears in his eyes, blood had coursed down his leg and completely soaked his sock and shoe. He recalled his mother reacting with fear as she rushed off the porch of their house, her long skirts flying up at the ends, as she ran towards him. It was the only time he had ever seen his mother actually running. Southern women never ran, especially women of this mother's status. She had been schooled to be calm, cool and collective no matter the emergency. Her sudden excitement only upset him more, and by the time she reached him he was shamelessly bawling. She swooped him up in her arms and ran with him to the water pump in the side yard. After all the blood had been washed off he had been embarrassed to discover a small half-moon shaped cut below his knee. Because there had been so much blood he had been terribly frightened at the time, and then afterward ashamed at having upset his mother, leaving a blood trail down the front of her pretty dress.

He wondered if Alex had healed the scar on purpose or if it had just been a mistake. Either way the answer didn't matter. The scar was gone there was no doubt about that, and with it went his consumption. For the first time in eight years he actually felt hopeful and eager to see what the future might bring. He could only hope Alex would be an intricate part of his future.

The three women and Morgan were indeed up and stirring in the house when Wyatt and Doc entered. From the dark look Allie gave him, Doc knew he was still in the doghouse.

"Must you strut around my yard half naked Doc?" She clucked her tongue at him and walked back into her bedroom. Doc quickly slipped on his shirt as he and Wyatt followed behind her to check in on Virgil.

Virgil was a wake, and bare-chested with his splinted arm resting across a pillow. From the scowl on his face Doc surmised he was still in great deal of pain. Doc nodded in greeting but stayed back from the bed as he watched Wyatt greet his older brother.

"Virgil, how are you feeling? Are you in a lot of pain?"

"Some. It's not too bad. This damn woman keeps slipping me laudanum every five minutes." He shot Allie a look that was meant to be scolding but appeared to Wyatt to be more affectionate.

"What news do you have Wyatt?"

Wyatt nodded his head at Doc. "We managed to find out a lot about Alex and her reason for being in town. Doc found her bag last night tied to a horse out back. Inside was a journal she's been keeping." He stopped to rub his hand over his mustache. "She not too happy with us right now."

"You mean she knows you have her journal?" Allie quickly asked.

"Yeah, she knows."

"For goodness sake, Wyatt. I believe you've managed to sink to a new low." Allie shook her head before focusing her sharp gaze on Doc. "I bet you had something to do with stealing her journal. Probably orchestrated the whole thing."

Doc gave her a silky grin, performed a small bow but said nothing.

Allie clucked her tongue again and turned away as she gave her husband a hot cup of coffee.

"She's coming over here tonight, Virgil to talk to us. Until then she strongly suggested we stay inside."

Virgil grunted with irritation. "Well, I'm not planning on going on a picnic today, Wyatt. I'll be stuck in this bed for the next several weeks."

"Maybe you will, but then again, maybe you won't." Doc mumbled under his breath.

Virgil shot him a confused look but said nothing. He sighed loudly as he handed the half empty coffee cup to Allie. "Those things, Wyatt, can they get inside the house?"

"From what Alex tells us, they can't. We're safe until sunset anyway. I suggest if anyone needs to bathe or do anything outside they do it now. After sunset no one goes outdoors and no one gets in until Alex gets here."

Virgil nodded in agreement. "You and Morgan are in charge, Wyatt. I can't do a damn thing."

Wyatt patted his brother on his good shoulder and smiled slightly. "You rest Virgil. I'll let you know when Alex gets here."

Once out of Virgil's room Doc and Wyatt went into the small kitchen where Morgan and the others were cooking a light meal. The three men quickly sat down at the small table to eat while Doc filled them in on all he had learned from reading Alex's journal.

In silence, Allie, Louisa and Josie listened. Every once in awhile they would glance at each other to check on the other's reaction as the men talked. Out of the three women, Allie was the least amazed. From the beginning of her acquaintance with Alexis she had a funny feeling about the blonde beauty. Now that they were learning the truth, Allie only smiled and nodded her head. She had known from the beginning Alex was very special.


	46. Our Very Own Guardian Angel

**Chapter 45 – Our Very Own Guardian Angel**

Completely concealed by the evening shadows, Alex sat as still as stone while she watched Virgil's house. She had arrived before sunset, and had been secretly watching for the last hour, making sure Malachi wasn't waiting to ambush anyone who might approach. Dr. Goodfellow had just left the house shortly after she arrived and since then all had been quiet. She planned on waiting another half an hour before knocking on the door to begin the most grueling night she had experienced in over a year. It was plain stupidity on her part to not have thought of grabbing a bottle of bourbon before she left the hotel. She could have gotten a good buzz before knocking on the door. Most likely Doc would be shit-faced as he interrogated her; she saw no reason why she shouldn't be just a drunk while she defended herself.

Inside the house Wyatt was anxiously waiting. The sun had set long ago, and he was now beginning to wonder if Alex was going to show. He was also worried that something might have happened to her on her way here. He walked over to the window again to look out at the undisturbed landscape and frowned.

From the sofa Doc snored softly. Exhaustion finally took over and after eating a light meal he had laid down to nap. In sleep his face looked younger and contained more peace than Wyatt had ever seen on him while awake. Briefly, he wondered if Alex had ever seen this side of Doc and he also wondered if fate might ever give her the chance to learn all the secrets his friend kept hidden from most of the world. Sadly, Wyatt was very aware he was perhaps the only one alive who might actually be acquainted with the real John Henry Holliday.

A breeze passed over the room. He turned to find the source and saw Alex standing in the doorway of the small parlor. Surprisingly, she had entered the cottage from the back door, something Wyatt had not considered. He almost called out to her in greeting but she quickly held her finger up to her lips to silence him before nodding at Doc's sleeping form.

He noticed immediately that any pretense to hide her identity was gone. She was now dressed in what Wyatt assumed was her own clothing. _Our Figure in Black __emerges_, he surmised with a great deal of satisfaction. Under the long black cloak, she wore black leather pants, a matching waist-length jacket, black gloves and black boots. Her hair was pulled back tightly from her face in a long braid. Over her shoulder she carried the black bag they had been examining last night. Clearly, by bringing the bag with her she intended to fully explain the contents. A thrill of excitement coursed through him as he eagerly looked forward to learning about the mysterious items she carried.

He watched her quietly place the bag on the floor and reach under her cloak and disconnect a long thin sword, which she leaned up against Allie's sewing machine. Then she removed her cloak, folded it neatly and placed it on top of the bag. Wyatt nodded back in greeting before walking toward her to hug her briefly. He didn't know where that impulse came from, but it seemed appropriate and necessary to heal the deep breach between her world and his. Then he jerked his head back toward the sofa. "He's been a wreck." He whispered as he gently pushed her in the direction of the couch.

She looked over at Doc sleeping on the sofa and then she turned back to Wyatt seeking some reassurance that he would welcome her company. Wyatt's eyes soften as he acknowledged her dilemma before he nodded and pushed her gently toward Doc again.

Alex knew it wasn't a good idea to touch Doc. She really shouldn't even be in the same room with him, but some hidden force seemed to pull her until she found herself standing near the edge of the sofa. She loved to watch him sleep. At every opportunity she had always paused for just a few minutes to watch the beauty in his face as his troubled soul found a moment of peace. While she looked down at him she slowly removed her gloves and stuffed them in the pockets of her jacket.

He looked pale and tired. She knew he had probably spent the night drinking and mauling over the traumatic events. More than likely her night had been more restful than his, which gave her some measure of satisfaction. She wanted to see him grieve over their affair. Why shouldn't he suffer like she had? Why shouldn't his tears be as bitter as hers? If she had any damn sense at all she would walk away from him now, continue to hide the pain she felt, and leave history alone.

After running out of the Oriental, she had returned to the hotel and spent two hours flipping back and forth from calmly reporting her findings at the Clanton ranch to Angel and Spike, to suddenly sobbing uncontrollably over Doc's harsh words and reaction to her deceit. Over and over again, her friends had reassured her that his reaction was typical, and that after Doc had some time to think he would find a change of heart. She had listened to what they told her, but she could only think it really wouldn't matter what Doc thought of her now, their affair was a dead end anyway.

Damn it! She should just walk away. Walk away from this house. Walk away from her new friends. Walk away from the man who had stolen her sanity when he had stolen her heart. Why then did she continue to hover over his sleeping form?

Vaguely, Doc was somewhat aware of the activity in the room around him, but sleep still kept him partially in the shadow world. When he felt a soft caress on his face he slowly opened his eyes to find Alex sitting on the edge of the couch staring down at him. Instantly, he reached for her. There was no second-guessing or thought involved. His movements were so natural they required no upper brain activity at all. Like the nimble flick of his fingers as they quickly turned a card, or the practice bend of his wrist as he tossed back another shot of whiskey, he kissed her as if he had been kissing her for a lifetime. For just a moment she let him have his way. He felt her body melt against his, heard her sigh into his mouth, tasted her tongue as it stroked against his, felt her fingers dig painfully into his flesh as she held him, and then she pulled away so quickly she seemed to move instantaneously from the circle of his arms to the other side of the room.

"Alexis." He whispered and held out his hand for her.

Her face flashed an array of emotions before she looked away. When she turned toward him again her expression was composed, almost cool. "We have a lot to talk about, John, and no time for nonsense." She moved to storm out of the room but stopped suddenly. "By the way, I thought I told you not to be here."

He sat up, ran his hand through his hair and sighed loudly over her cold tone. "Yes, I believe you did. You also mentioned tossing my ass out into the wilds and whatever might be lurking in them. Very un-lady like of you, I might add, but if that is your game, then I'm your man. You might recall I've not had much of a history with ladies and rough play is not beyond my experience."

For a split second she almost smiled. The corners of her mouth turned up slightly and the cold dark expression in her eyes vanished. Then she shook her head at him and walked away. Over her shoulder she called, "If you're going to participate then I suggest you behave yourself. Or I will make good on my threat. You wouldn't be the first man I tossed out a door, Doc. I doubt you'll be the last."

She went back into the kitchen to seek Wyatt. "I want to see Virgil first and then we'll talk."

He nodded. "Sure Alex."

Allie took her by the arm to lead her to the bedroom, but Alex stopped her and quickly hugged her tightly. "I was so never so frightened in my life Allie. I'm so sorry he hurt you."

Allie only smiled and hugged her back. "I was only scared for a little while," she whispered, "and then I knew you had a hidden ace up your sleeve. It never crossed my mind to doubt you."

Virgil was asleep when she entered his room. She stood in the doorway for a moment as his haggard appearance raked painfully across her already bruised heart. His face was deathly pale and dark circles shadowed his eyelids. He was bare-chested, as clothing would be next to impossible with his arm splinted. Alex observed several old scars that graced his upper body, which only pained her more knowing she had help add to the collection. To the right of the bed stood a washing bowl with a bloody towel draped over it, and next to it a large bottle of laudanum.

He groaned softly as he slept, tormented by pain even through a drug-induced sleep. She looked carefully at his arm and was shocked at how swollen and discolored his hand was. Obviously, circulation was not what it should be. _He's going to loose his arm_, she thought. Which made her wonder if history was struggling to stay on coarse, or if Malachi had injured Virgil in this way to correct the imbalance in the timeline. Either way it didn't matter now. She intended to follow through with her decision.

Carefully she sat on the bed next to him and gently tapped his cheek. Foggy blue eyes gazed back at her and then he smiled softly. "Hey, girl. You're late aren't you?"

Alex heard the others file in behind her and crowd around the bed. "Nope." She grinned back. "Been sitting outside for more than an hour making sure all was clear. Wouldn't be the expert I am if I didn't check out the scene first before making my entrance."

Virgil chuckled and nodded with approval. "Good girl. Whoever taught you did a good job. Wish my knuckle-headed brothers thought like you." He tried to sit up further in the bed and only aggravated his injury more. He sucked in his breath sharply as the pain in his arm flared and then he surprised Alex by laughing out loud. "Damn it all."

Alex smiled at his strength. "You're first on my list tonight big guy. Hold still, this won't hurt or take very long."

Silently, Doc held his breath with anticipation. If she could do what he expected she could, he was about to witness a miracle first hand.

Virgil had no idea what Alex meant. He hadn't been involved in Doc's earlier lecture and had spent much of the day sleeping. He was somewhat startled when Alex reached out and laid the palm of her hand on his bare chest, but before he could remark on her peculiar behavior he felt a strange warm sensation flow over his chest, up to his shoulder and down over his broken arm. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply as the pain that had been a constant companion since the accident suddenly melted away.

Ignoring the startled cries of wonder from the others in the room, Doc watched with amazement as Virgil's broken arm heal right before his eyes. The muscles and bones literally moved by themselves as the torn flesh and bone became whole again. He watched for any sign of distress from Alex but she seemed to be fairly stable as her fingertips trailed lightly across Virgil's chest, up to his shoulder before passing down the length of his arm. There was only a small hitch in her breathing right after the lump of distorted flesh in Virgil's arm receded. Once the swelling in his hand disappeared and the color in his fingers returned to a healthy pink tone, Alex lifted her hand and leaned back. She smiled slowly and passed her hand over her eyes as if she was suddenly weary. Doc could clearly see her hand tremble and when she moved to stand he stepped forward with concern.

Alex wasn't expecting the weakness in her legs, but as she stood they refused to hold her weight and she would have fallen if Doc hadn't been there to catch her. Her heart leaped at his touch and the warm pressure of his body next to hers. Aggravated at her feminine weakness she tried to push him away.

"Hold still." He ordered as he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the sofa in the parlor. After he laid her down he sat along side and stared down at her with concern. "Is this normal?" He asked, thinking if Virgil's broken arm could send her to her knees he could only surmise what a dying consumptive must have done to her physically. When she continued to lay there with her eyes closed and didn't response immediately, he shook her and called, "Alex!"

"I can hear you John, there's no need to shout." She passed a trembling hand over her face again, but still didn't look at him.

"Wyatt, get a glass of whiskey, quick!" He called without taking his eyes off her pale face.

Her body continued to tremble beyond her control, giving her more concern than she cared to show at the moment. She deliberately kept her eyes closed or Doc would have seen the fear threading through her body. The problem was clear enough, her system was overloaded. Between healing her own injuries and Virgil's, her body was struggling to rid itself of the wounds. _Angel is right, I need to rest some more._

She felt Doc's smooth fingers gently trace the outline of her face before sliding down her neck. Against her will she leaned into his palm and sighed, wondering if she would ever get over the pleasure she experienced with just a simple touch of his hand. She realized she felt a unity with him, as if some unspoken pledge or vowel had been made and she now belonged to him for all eternity. In reality, she knew she was deceiving herself. What she was feeling for Doc could never be freely exchanged. He didn't share her feelings and her pride wouldn't let expose her soul to a man who wouldn't or couldn't return her affections. Therefore, any devotion she felt was pure feminine delusion. _Silly girl, y__ou're really alone again._

As if sensing her doubts, he leaned in and kissed her forehead before trailing his mouth over her face to stop at her lips. When he whispered her name, Alex gave into to the feelings he was sensually stroking from her body and wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her face against his neck. Tears she had been holding back spilled over her lashes. "I'm sorry." She whispered to him. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone."

Doc cradled her against his chest relishing the warm tenderness of her body in his arms. The knot of temper and anxiety he had been holding in check suddenly dissipated, leaving behind the sense of how close he came to loosing her. "I know you didn't. I should have had more faith in you, and in us. I have always had trouble containing my temper, Alex. Unfortunately, it gets the best of me each time."

She nodded as if she understood. "I wanted to tell you the truth. Really I did. Everything just got so complicated so quickly."

A soft cough from the room reminded them they were not alone. Reluctantly he let her slip from his grasp but stayed seated next to her on the sofa.

"Here, Doc." Wyatt prodded as he handed him the glass of whiskey.

"I'm all right now." Alex said as she struggled to sit up, feeling slightly embarrassed by their very public love scene.

"Drink it anyway." Doc ordered as he placed the glass in her hand. He watched as she took a small sip, and then narrowed his eyes at her to get her to drink again.

From behind him he could hear Allie's soft crying and Morgan's excited exclamations as Virgil showed off his restored arm. "I don't understand." Virgil kept repeating over and over again.

Wyatt laughed out loud and patted his brother on his newly healed shoulder as Virgil walked over to Alex and Doc. "Virgil, I'd like to introduce you to our very own guardian angel."

"Uh?" Virgil replied eloquently while he continuously rubbed his hand over his arm.

Wyatt only laughed again. "Are you feeling better now Alex?" She was staring off into space and didn't answer him. Wyatt looked toward Doc who still hovered over her protectively. "Alex?" He called again.

"Uh?" She echoed mindlessly as she stared at the two black books sitting on a small table on the opposite side of the sofa. "Why are there two?" She asked but no one immediately answered her. She fixed her gaze on Doc and asked again. "You took my journal?"

"Yes." He admitted as he wrapped his arm around her again.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "So, where did the other one come from?"

Doc sighed heavily as he prepared to face her eminent anger. "It's Malachi's. We found it in Ringo's saddle bags." He waited for the explosion but she only continued to stare open mouthed at him.

"Come again?" She asked.

"I intended to give it to you last night but Lucifer wouldn't let us in your room. Alex, please try to understand how upset I was. I wasn't thinking clearly."

"Ringo stole Malachi's journal?" She asked again in a bewildered tone. She climbed out of his embrace, and then across the sofa to retrieve the books. Slowly, she opened her husband's journal. When she saw his name written in his strong scripted hand she immediately began to cry. She hugged the book to her chest as if she could, in some small way, hug Malachi again. This book had been in his possession the night he disappeared. When the search parties began to scour the jungle she had hoped they would find Malachi, or if not him bodily, then at least his journal. In it were vital clues to his state of mind and maybe the events that led up to his death.

She raised her eyes to look at Doc. "You should have told me you had this." She couldn't help the cold edge that crept into her voice. "It was bad enough that the three of you snooped into my life, but this," she held the book up for them to see, "is evidence to a crime."

Doc started to interrupt as he tried to explain, but she cut him off. "And, it's also Guardian property."

"We intended to give it back, but Angel wouldn't…."

Alex cut him off again. "I don't recall you mentioning finding Malachi's journal last night. I'm sure if you had let Angel know you had this, he would have told you how important it was." She snapped. "It was rather sneaky of you Doc to give me back my bag but keep secretly keep the journals for yourself."

Doc finally retaliated. "You haven't been very forthcoming with your answers Alexis. How else were we to learn the truth?"

"Your truth takes no precedence in my agenda, John. None whatsoever. Telling you who I am and why I'm here is a courtesy. Nothing more."

"Now hold on a minute, Alex." Wyatt jumped forward with one finger pointed in her direction. "People are dying. Damn it, my wife was killed. We have a right to know what is going on. You knew what was preying on the folks in this town and yet you kept this information to yourself."

His temper did not move her at all. Calmly she looked back at him and said, "And now that you know what's out there, Wyatt, what do you intend to do about it?"

His mouth opened, closed and then opened again. "I don't know." He admitted.

"That's right, you don't know, but I do and so do my companions. This book should have been given to me last night. You're right, people are dying and you and Doc have just delayed my mission by at least twelve hours by sticking your noses where they don't belong. I can only wonder how many people have die in those twelve hours." She glared at both men before she sighed with frustration and looked down at the journal again. "Have you read it?"

"No." Doc growled.

She laughed. "Well, that only makes it worse now doesn't it?" She tucked the books firmly in her hand and stood.

Doc watched as she walked across the floor to grab her bag. When she shouldered the bag he stood up and moved toward her making a conscious effort to control his temper. "Where are you going?" He asked in what he hoped was an even tone.

"I have to find Angel and Spike. This journal needs to be looked at by people who know what they're reading, which is going to take more time that I don't have. " She went to reach for her cloak and sword but Doc stopped her.

"But you said you would explain everything to us tonight!" _I'm not going to yell. I'm not going to yell. I'm not going to yell_. He kept repeating the phrase over and over in his head right before he grabbed her by the jacket and held her still.

"Yes, I did, but my agenda has just changed. I'm sorry but I have to go." She looked down at his hand wrapped around her coat and then raised her eyebrows at him. When he didn't immediately release her she tried to jerk free.

Doc had finally reached his limit. He yanked her around so that they stood face to face. "If you think I'm going to let you walk out that door, you are very mistaken! You…" When she reached up to smack him, he was ready. He blocked her blow, grabbed her by the wrist, and hoisted her over his shoulder. He then carried her to the sofa, and tossed her down onto the cushions. Pointing one finger at her he continued his rant. "YOU are going to sit here until each and every question we have is answered! I don't care how fucking long it takes or how many people die while you talk, but damn it Alex, you will tell us EVERYTHING!"

Her immediate response was to glare at him, but after a moment's pause she smiled. "You know, if I hadn't cured you, I could have gotten the upper hand just then."

Her reaction took him by surprise but her admission made his knees weak. "Alex, please. I'm begging you."

She frowned and exhaled loudly. "All right! Fine! But I can't stay here all night, so let's make this fast."

She reached out and tossed back the rest of the whiskey Wyatt had poured for her. Then she shrugged out of her jacket and unfastened her vest. Next she reached inside the vest and pulled free Doc's gun, waved it around in the air to show him Angel had returned it before placing it on the table in front of the sofa. She placed her jacket on the arm of the couch as she watched Doc walked over to the bar, grab a bottle of whiskey and several glasses before sitting on the sofa next to her. After he had filled her glass he poured one for himself and then passed the bottle and extra glasses to Wyatt. Morgan and Virgil retrieved extra chairs from the dinning table and positioned them across from Alex so that Allie, Louisa and Josie could also join in on the conversation.

When Alex reached for her glass Doc noted the now unconcealed tattoos on her wrists. He nodded to her arms. "Why the tattoos, Alex? Are they part of being a Guardian?"

She raised her eyebrows at the mention of her organization. Obviously, John had spent his time reading her journal rather than sleeping. _Too bad he didn't focus his attention on Malachi's journal instead, _she thought as she swallowed a small mound of irritation rising in her throat. "The tattoos are a symbol of the order." She held out both of her arms for the others to see. "The crown of thorns represent the trial of Christ, and also the trial I passed before I could take my vows to serve. The roses represent purity, thus the purity I must maintain in my heart as I fight. The cross is the reason why I fight and the very basis of the Guardian foundation. We are a secretive order, more ancient then the Church of Rome, and founded by the Roman Emperor Constantine shortly after he declared Christianity as the true religion. To give you an idea how long ago this was, Constantine was Emperor from 306 A.D. to 335 A.D."

"337 A.D." Doc corrected.

She flashed him an irritated look before continuing. "The very first Guardians were hand picked by Constantine himself from the very best of his soldiers to guard Constantinople from the dark forces that had evaded the city and threatened his empire.

As the centuries progressed the Guardians fell under the jurisdiction of the Catholic Church and the Holy Father. We are a force of thousands, trained to seek and fight the evil that lurks in the darkness, unseen by mankind. We live in secret, unseen and unrecognized by ordinary people. We don't even know each other outside our own units. That's why we are marked for identification. The only people who know of our existence outside of our base of operation are the parish priests, and they only know a fraction of information. When I arrived I went straight to the church and showed Father Martin my arms. No other identification was needed, and he has been helping ever since."

When she was finished her presentation she looked at their bewildered faces and smiled before turning to Doc to add, "How's that for telling the truth?"

The astonished look on his face quickly faded as he frowned at her sarcasm. "It's a start darlin. Keep it coming and I won't be forced to beat you."

"Somehow, I get the impression you would find beating me to be a deep, primordial pleasure."

His reply was a sly smirk accompanied by a seductive gleam in his eyes, which only confirmed her assumption.

Wyatt's response to her introduction closely resembled Doc's. He gave her a thoughtful look before adding, "So, this is what you've been doing for… how many years Alex?"

"Six years. I trained for almost two years before serving in the field. "

He looked at her with something akin to amazement. "I think it's a hell of a life for a woman to lead." He admitted.

She nodded her head in agreement. "I'm really tired, Wyatt, and I'm more than ready for this to end, but I need to take care of Malachi first. Until I do I won't be able to rest."

Virgil had been patiently waiting while Wyatt and Doc verbally wrestled with Alex. Rather than interrupt what was obviously an important conversation he had hoped listening in would answer some of the questions he had, but as the minutes ticked by he was growing more and more irritated. "Look I know I've been a little out of the loop lately. So, will somebody here please explain to me what the hell is going on?"

Alex raised her brows at Wyatt and nodded her head toward Virgil. "Do you want to fill him in or should I?"

"I don't care who does the talking." Virgil growled as he put on a shirt Allie had gotten for him to wear. "Wyatt?" He prompted.

Wyatt quickly gave Virgil a summary of all they learned about Alex and her reason for being in town. Occasionally, Alex would fill in a small detail or answer a question Virgil had, but mostly she let Wyatt do the talking giving her the opportunity to collect her thoughts. She really hadn't decided how much of her story she should tell them. This night would be an experiment in spontaneity. There had been only a few times since joining the Guardians when she revealed her entire story. Since Doc had read her journal, there would be no way she could sidestep around the truth. He would insist on hearing all the details and on having each and every question he posed answered to the fullest. If she refused to comply he would undoubtedly pitch a fit and bounce her off the sofa a few more times.

Finally, when Wyatt had finished telling Virgil all he knew, Virgil sat and simply stared at her for a moment and then he looked down at his arm as he rubbed his hand over the unmarred flesh.

"I've heard stories of people born with certain gifts. It was during the war when we would be holed up for days on end waiting for our orders, some of the men got to talking and telling stories. They would tell ghost tales, or stories about seeing mysterious lights appearing over a graveyard. My personal favorite would be about the local woman or man who could predict the weather or tell what sex a woman's baby would be by just feeling her belly. Our own grandmother was rumored to have the gift of second sight. Folks would come from miles around to seek her advise on matters of love or money. Our Ma used to say if she had a girl child rather then all us boys, the gift would have been passed on. They say it runs in every other generation or so but only through the women." He paused as he looked at both of his brothers. "Maybe one of us will get lucky. Who knows? Your gift is strong, Alex. There's no doubt about that. I thank you bestowing it on me." His voice broke with emotion as he finished.

"Alex, did you ever learn how you acquired your ability to heal? Was it a gift from God?" Allie hesitantly asked in a shy, nervous tone.

Allie's timid question gave her another moment's pause, which made her realize she had not handled this situation as best as she could. She had been unnecessarily hard on her new friends. The last thing she wanted to do was to have them frightened and confused by her new identity and recent events, and her aggressive attitude was not helping the situation. It was time to take a step back and observe their emotional level more closely. Nervous, frightened people made stupid mistakes, and stupid mistakes could often get you killed when dealing with the supernatural.

She looked more closely at their faces and body postures. Both Allie and Louisa seemed to be bearing up well under the strain. Even though they looked tired and haggard by fear, their backs were straight, their eyes and hands were calm as they sat next to their husbands not only receiving strength from them but also giving it in return.

Josie, however, was not holding up as well. She leaned heavily against Wyatt; her eyes were dry but her hands were busy shredding another linen handkerchief.

The men contained themselves a little better, but she could see signs of anxiety in them as well. Virgil's lips were in a constant pinch and every few minutes he would rub his healed arm as if the limb was still painful, even though Alex knew it wasn't. When he wasn't rubbing his arm he would reach over and pat Allie's hand.

Morgan didn't move his arms or hands at all but his eyes shifted back and forth nervously from Wyatt to Virgil as he sought to glean his brother's opinions and feeling about the discussion. His one hand remained tightly clamped around Louisa's.

Wyatt was the steadiest of the Earp brothers. His eyes were fixated on her for answers with an occasional confirmation from Doc.

Then she turned to look at Doc again. Although he was upset with her over her deception and the status of their relationship, his overall emotional tone was calm but watchful. Clearly he was more concerned for her welfare then his own. But what did that mean exactly? Was he concerned for her because he felt an obligation or did his attachment go deeper, and how could she tell the difference between the two? One thing she did not see in him was fear. Doc was as unwavering as he always appeared to be.

"Alex?" He gently prodded, and she realized she had not answered the question because she had been busy thinking.

"Is my ability a gift from God? I don't know, Allie. I hope not. I know God can be cruel sometimes, but I hope he isn't that cruel. I never asked to be this singled out."

"Why would you say that? Look at all the good you've done." Allie replied. "First Doc and now Virgil. Just think what would have happened if you didn't have your gift." She visibly shivered as she took Virgil's hand in hers. "No. I can't even think of that now."

"Please don't misunderstand my point of view, I'm very glad to have helped you both, although the consequences of my actions here have been severe. I shouldn't have this "gift" as some call it. Technically, I should be dead, either from my fall down that slope, or the snakebite I received as I fell. This 'gift' I acquired at a great price. There is no medical term for what happened to me, and since I refused to be examined by the Guardians in Rome, there never will be. The simplest explanation I can give you is this: I have always had a very good immune system. I've never had a cold, or fever and any injury I received have always healed very quickly. Cuts, and bruises are usually gone within a few hours, although I'm very tired afterwards. When that snake bit me, my system fought to overcome the venom. The doctor at the mission believes – and I have to agree with his theory – that my metabolism went into a accelerated state to heal the effects of the venom and now it can't shut down."

"How does it work?" Doc asked. "How do you transfer your ability onto another person?"

"I don't transfer it, I absorb whatever ails them and then my system destroys it. That's why I'm sometimes tired or weak for awhile afterwards."

His face visibly paled. It was clear to her that he was alarmed by her admission. "Do you mean you physically take on the illness or injury?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Then you carried my consumption for how long?"

"Not more than thirty minutes. Virgil's injury was minor compared to your illness. Healing him only made my arm ache a little, although my system is strained from healing my own injuries as well."

His eyes widen with fright or wonder, Alex couldn't tell, right before he jumped up from his seat and paced to the window.

"You were a very sick man, John and were well on your way downhill. I had to help you. There was no way I was going to sit by your bed and watch you die." She said in a quiet reserved tone.

Doc kept his back to the room as he fought to compose his emotions. When he finally turned around the stained lines around his eyes revealed the extent of his emotional struggle. "Alex, I wouldn't have wished my illness on my worst enemy let alone you of all people."

She laughed away his anxiety. "That's silly, Doc. I'm the only person who could have take on the burden of your illness. But that's all in the past now. I was never in any danger of dying, nor was I very ill from the disease, not the way you were that night."

When she mentioned that night in his room she reminded him of another matter he wanted clarified. "Alex, in your journal was an envelope addressed to me. Since we're on the subject, would you care to explain why you have it?"

She looked away from him and down at the glass she held in her hands. "Forget about that letter Doc. It doesn't mean a damn thing."

He sat back down next to her fully intending to get the answers he needed. "It was Malachi who addressed that to me, wasn't it?"

She didn't meet his eyes when she nodded her head.

"And the poem inside was written for you?"

This time she raised her eyes to meet his. "They're song lyrics. Malachi and I danced to that song at our wedding."

"Oh, my God." Allie whispered. "Was he threatening Doc?"

"Oh, he did more than threaten him, Allie." Her tone was calm but there was a cold, deadly gleam of anger in her eyes as she looked back at Allie. "He almost killed him."

"What?" Doc asked.

"Do you remember anything particular about the night of Mattie's funeral, John?" Alex gently asked him.

He thought for a moment before shaking his head. "I was terribly drunk when I finally went to bed, but when I was sick I was often drunk when I went to bed, Alex. Sometimes it was the only way I could get a few hours of undisturbed sleep before my cough would wake me. I remember waking up several times, because it was difficult to breath, but that was normal too." Suddenly, he remembered he had also woken once terribly frightened and had his gun drawn and the hammer cocked back before he was fully awake. "Are you trying to tell me that…" Subconsciously, he began to rub the inside of his elbow.

As realization dawned on him she slid her arm across his back to reassure him. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. He had weakened your body and triggered your consumption into the last stage. I didn't realize what had happened until I came to see you. When I read Malachi's note I knew why you were so terribly ill."

"My God." Wyatt exclaimed. "He fully intended to kill us all. First Mattie and then Doc?"

Alex looked at him for a moment as she considered how to phrase what she wanted to say. "I don't think he intended to kill Doc. I believe Malachi aware of my involvement with him. He probably heard of our attachment from Behan, who I believe was spying for Malachi and possibly luring potential victims to Malachi's encampment. My late husband wanted to upset me and keep me off balance, making my job of finding him more difficult. He was placing his chest pieces into position and was waiting until he could make his next move. He also counted on me following the rules and staying within the guidelines of Guardian law, but he was wrong.

"His next move? Which would be what, Alex?" Doc asked.

She sighed loudly. "I believe he planned on recruiting you, Wyatt, Virgil and Morgan and turning all of you into vampires."

There was a loud gasped right before Josie hit the floor in a dead faint.

Alex stayed calmly seated on the sofa while Wyatt and Allie scurried about trying to revive Josie "Bloody hell." She declared and took another deep sip from her glass.


	47. Against Her Better Judgment

**Chapter 46 – Against Her Better Judgment**

Wyatt walked slowly from the spare bedroom back into the living room. The shuffle in his step along with the weary expression in his eyes revealed the nervous exhaustion the lawman was feeling. Once he was seated he let out a long groan. "I'm getting too old for all this excitement."

Doc laughed at him and poured him a large drink. "To eternal youth my friend." He joked and slid the glass in Wyatt's direction.

Wyatt gave him a dirty look as he took a deep drink. "Doc, sometimes your sense of humor is a little too twisted."

"Amen to that." Alex replied.

After Josie's collapse, they had helped the young woman to lie down in the spare room. Louisa opted to sit with Josie while she rested. As Morgan had put it only moments before, Lou had already decided she didn't want to hear anymore about Alex's secret life. The entire concept was too frightening for her.

Alex wasn't offended, nor did she try changing her mind. She preferred to keep her talk between Doc, Wyatt, Virgil and Morgan anyway. Laypersons shouldn't hear what her world was all about. When she suggested that Allie also remove herself from their discussion she adamantly refused to leave.

"Hell no." She replied firmly with just a hint of her Irish accent rising to the occasion. "That thing almost took off Virgil's arm and then it tried to cut you to ribbons. Under no circumstances will I meekly sit by and watch my family and my friend walk into danger. I may not be able to fight like you do Alex, I'll admit to that, but knowledge is power. I want to learn all I can, perhaps I can be of some assistance to you when the moment is right."

Alex tried to talk sense to her but Allie immediately cut her off with a shake of her finger. "Don't even try to talk me out of this Alexis Marie Montgomery. My mind is made up. Now sit down and start talking."

Alex abruptly sat back down on the sofa next to Doc and tried hard to ignore the comical smile that graced his face. "My mother used to scold me by using my first and middle name. It's been a long time since anyone called me Alexis Marie."

"I'll be thanking you to not compare me to your mother Alex." Allie snipped. "I'm only a few months older than you."

Alex blushed at her blunder and went to explain but Virgil stopped her with a wave of his hand. "Never mind, Alex, it's a losing battle. Trust me on this, just let it go."

"Was it fear for my well-being that prompted you to insist I return home?" Doc asked Alex in an effort to change the subject and to also keep the pace of their conversation moving.

"Why the hell would you want to stay out here? This place is a hellhole, even before Malachi came. And if I don't stop him he will turn it into hell itself. Go home John. Take the first stage out of here and return to Georgia. And please, take your friends with you." She gestured to the others sitting in the room.

He frowned at her and shook his head. "No! I'm not leaving you here to face danger alone, and damn it I'm not going back to Georgia. We've already had this conversation, and I've explained to you the reason why I won't go back home."

"Then don't go home. Take a trip to Philadelphia and stay there for a spell. You could enroll at the university and enhance your degree."

A queer light slipped into his eyes. Clearly this idea appealed to him. "Only if you come with me." He replied firmly.

She looked at the sincerity in his eyes and once more she saw a future with him deep within the depths of his heart. Her tears blurred her vision until she couldn't see his face clearly, but she continued to hold his gaze. "I can't come with you Doc. I don't belong here and staying in this time would be a tremendous wrong."

He reached out to gently caress her cheek, wiping away the tears he found there. "Alex, I've learned a long time ago that life is often wrong, but that doesn't mean you have to except what fate deals you and curl up your toes and die."

She swallowed back her tears and looked away to take a drink from her glass, hoping the whiskey would temporarily calm her nerves. "You make this so hard for me." She had no sooner returned her empty glass to the table when he took her hand in his.

Sensing that he might be breaking through her resistance, he plowed forward and revealed his secret plan. "In my jacket pocket are two tickets for the stage. Let's go pack your things and plan to be on it when it leaves, tomorrow. We'll travel to Texas and board a train east. Run away with me and leave all this behind."

Tears threatened to spill as she slowly shook her head. "I would love to run away with you, but I don't have a choice. Malachi will never let me walk away. He has big plans for this town, John and I have to stop him before it's too late."

She saw a fleeting expression of rage and frustration cross his face before he dropped her hand and moved to stand by the window. "Why did you purchase two tickets for the stage when you knew I would never go with you." She asked. She heard him issue a dry laugh right before he turned around to answer her.

"Because I never intended to ask you to go Alex. My intent was to drug you and force you to go."

There was a general outcry from Allie, Virgil and Morgan, but Doc ignored them. Wyatt seemed the least surprised by his friends admission as he leaned back in his chair and smiled silently to himself.

"Actually, I planned on doing that today, but as you can see things have gotten a little off schedule."

The expression on Alex's face was also one of surprise that suddenly faded into amusement. "You were going to kidnap me?" She asked with a grin.

"Precisely." He leaned back against the window frame and crossed his arms over his chest.

"And go where, might I ask?"

"To Florida. An uncle I'm very close to lives there. I figured we could be married and then settle down. Assuming of course, you didn't raise too much of an uproar when you woke from your stupor."

"Doc are you out of your God damn mind?" Virgil yelled as he jumped to his feet and approached the gambler with a feral look in his eyes.

Doc never flinched at the other man's anger. Instead, a small confused look spread over his face as if he was carefully weighing Virgil's allegations before he replied, "Yes, Virgil I believe I am. Incurably so."

Alex quickly intervened before the lawman could interrogate Doc further. "Virgil it's all right. His plan never would have worked anyway. My metabolism would have neutralized the drug in a few hours. Shoot, I can't even enjoy getting drunk anymore. Anything foreign in my system gets destroyed. I could get dead drunk on a fifth of scotch and two hours later be completely sober. "

Doc gave her a feigned horrified expression but Alex couldn't help but see the eager look of interest churning in his eyes. "Truly a frightening concept, but clearly a theory worth testing." He mused.

Unmoved by her comment, Virgil stood in the center of the room with both hands planted on his hips and a serious frown cemented on his face. "That's no excuse, Alex." He turned back toward Doc. "You try anything funny like that Doc and I promise you I'll hunt you down myself. You won't get as far as the border before I'll have a rifle up your tail and a warrant for your arrest. You best mind what I say."

"In light of recent events, Virgil, I can promise you I shall conduct myself as a gentleman."

Virgil was not in the mood to be appeased. "Do you know what your problem is Doc, you're too damn cocky. It's to bad Alex can't fix your disposition like she fixed your consumption."

Doc flashed him a smug smile before turning back to Alex. "I was a desperate man, darlin'. Forgive me."

Alex was still in awe by his confession. "There's nothing to forgive. I'm flattered you would go to such trouble to be with me."

"You didn't leave me much of a choice, now did you? In spite of everything my feelings haven't changed, we can still make arrangements to be on the next stage heading east, or north, I don't really care, pick a direction."

She turned away from him again before her tears took over. _"_Our wills and fates do so contrary run," she mumbled more to herself than as an answer to Doc's proposal, "that our devices still are overthrown; our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own."

"Quoting Hamlet won't get you out of this Alex." Doc answered dryly. "Even if Shakespeare is fitting to our present circumstance."

She sighed loudly as she stared back at him. "What I'm trying to tell you is that even though you are now completely aware of my true agenda it doesn't change my position, John. I still can't be with you. I must complete my mission and return home. Those are the facts, plain and simple. I have meddled with history enough as it is. If I remained in this time, to begin a life with you would be a catastrophe of unknown proportions. Besides, I never should have gotten involved with you in the first place." She stood and began to pace the room.

His lips thinned from the frustration that was slowly taking over his self control. "I don't see it that way!" He growled. "What does history have to do with our relationship? You mentioned a gunfight in your journal? Alex, I've had dozens of gunplay, you can't possible expect me to believe that one little shootout would be that damn important."

She starred opened mouthed at him for a moment, and then she started to laugh. After a several minutes of indulging her, Doc finally lost his patience. "What's so damn funny?"

"I'm sorry," she giggled as she sat back down on the sofa, "but coming from you, that statement is a scream." She wiped her eyes and poured herself another drink. "What a damn crime I can't get completely drunk and just stay that way."

"What happens here, Alex? What exactly was changed when you and Malachi arrived?" Morgan asked with obvious curiosity.

She sighed heavily. "Everything. Several very important events set off a chain reaction that historians in my time are still debating."

His face lit with surprise. He looked toward his brothers to gage their reaction before asking, "Like what for instance?"

"They say it started when Doc was accused of robbing a stagecoach." She heard Doc snort loudly with irritation before she could continue. "To give you the short version of the story, the robbery was a complete blunder and one of the drivers was killed. Ike Clanton knew who was involved. The two of you had words, which sent Ike on a drinking, swearing spree. The next morning he was still angry and looking for a fight. One thing led to another and the McLaurys also got involved. The two families congregated at the OK Corral. It is believe they were waiting to ambush Doc when he returned to Fly's. Virgil intervened by rounding up his brothers and Doc intending to confront the Clantons and McLaurys and demand they give up their guns. Shots were fired. Who shot first? Who shot who? What positions were you standing in? Christ, pick a topic and it has been debated and discussed. In the end, Tom and Frank McLaury were killed. So was Billy Clanton. There was a trial and all of you were acquitted, but bitter feelings grew."

Morgan nodded thoughtfully for a moment. "So… when you killed several key members of the cowboys, you altered history. But, didn't Malachi affect history first by turning the cowboys into those monsters? Isn't he really to blame for changing the timeline, giving you no choice but to react to the situation he created?"

"That's one way to look at it, Morgan. But, Malachi was cleaver, he might have turned them into vampires, but that doesn't mean the gunfight still couldn't have taken place. His version would have just been an alternate one. I took away any and all possibilities when I killed Ike and the McLaury bothers." She looked away thoughtfully and chewed on her lower lip. "But you know… his scheme might not be as calculating I imagine." She looked back at Morgan and continued. "Malachi was probably killing two birds with one stone. He wanted to recruit the cowboys and at the same time he wanted to keep me off balance, knowing I would be concerned about the timeline. Perhaps he was betting on me sticking to the Guardian rule book and when I didn't follow procedure he had no way of predicting what I would do next."

"Alex, I still don't see why this confrontation would be any different than hundreds of other episodes lawmen encounter in the West." Doc continued. He was still leaning back against the window frame simulating a casual disposition that existed only on the surface. Underneath his poise, he was frustrated and irritable with the outcome of the discussion. He had hoped that the truth of Alex's current predicament would open up possibilities for him to keep her in town. But it now seemed like his life had hit another brick wall. "After all, if Virgil, Wyatt and Morgan decided to disarm a bunch of troublemakers, they would certainly be within their jurisdiction to do so."

"Doc, that is precisely what was in question. The deaths of William Clanton, Frank and Thomas McLaury were considered, by some folks to be outright murder. Some say that the McLaury's were unarmed when the gunfire began. Others say they were either reaching for their weapons, or were in the processing of drawing when you four opened fire. Behan also played an important part in bringing about hard feelings against you. He supposedly had a secret alliance with the cowboys and was attempting to run all of you out of town." She paused from her narrative to sip from her glass and to consider how to word her next statement.

"And then there's your personal involvement that was a point of contention. Because of your past history and experience," she had to bite back an amused grin when Doc suddenly cursed softly and stepped away from the window to empty the contents of his glass, "your participation was not looked upon with a favorable eye. Even though your position was one of backup and support, Judge Spicer reprimanded Virgil for asking for your help."

"But we were acquitted?" Virgil asked.

"Oh, yes, but by then the news of the trial had hit all the major newspapers. Your names have been cemented in history ever since then."

"I'm still dumbfounded, " Virgil continued, "as to why history considers that gun fight to be more controversial then any other. Did they shoot back at us?"

Alex nodded.

"What about my husband and Wyatt, Morgan and Doc, were they injured or killed?" Allie suddenly asked.

Alex studied Allie's face as she considered if she should answer this question or not. After a moment of observing the tightly held control Allie was keeping over her emotions, Alex decided a partial truth was better than no truth at all. "Virgil and Morgan were both wounded but survived. Later, the Clanton's took revenge and Virgil was ambushed and shot in the arm. You lost the use of that arm Virg. Which makes me wonder if Malachi wasn't trying to make a correction to the time line when he hurt you." She thought for a moment before adding, "I guess it doesn't matter now."

"Just Virgil was ambushed?" Doc asked. When she didn't immediately response his interest peaked. He watched her stall her answer by clearing her throat several times as if she suddenly discovered an irritation that prevented her from responding. She fiddled with her glass for a moment more as she pretend to sip the golden liquid. When she shifted in her seat, he knew she was desperately trying to think of a decent lie. A sudden wave of anger coursed through him. _Not again,_ he thought. _God, when is this all going to stop_.

"Alex!" He prodded hoping to throw off her concentration.

The maneuver worked. She startled when he called her name and almost dropped her glass. "Oh, sorry. Uh, no… no one else was hurt. End of story."

"I see." He replied in a tone that was all too familiar. When she glanced at him she held his gaze a moment too long. In that fleeting second she indirectly showed her hand, which allowed him to perceive how she had censored the truth. She saw a spark of shock in his eyes before he quickly recovered and made a change of topic.

"Well, since those events won't be forthcoming, I say we start a new history." He sat back down on the sofa next to her. "You've already started things in motion Alex, why not stick around and see how things work out?"

"And I say we talk about this later." She replied in an even tone. "There are other things that need to be discussed tonight. Unfortunately, our relationship is not at the top of my agenda, John." She held up her hand to prevent his interrupting. "I know you want resolution. So do I, but I need to stay on track. People's lives are at stake."

She turned away from him and back toward Virgil. "I'm sorry you got hurt, Virgil. I wish… Well, things should never have gotten so out of control. You were never meant to get directly involved and I certainly never wanted anyone to get hurt." She told them. "What you saw last night was not meant to be seen by the general public. Most demons are solitary beings. The congregation here in Tombstone is very unusual and it got out of hand so quickly."

"It's not your fault, Alex." Virgil spoke up. "If Ringo hadn't come in looking for trouble most likely your husband wouldn't have attacked so soon."

She shrugged lightly. "Maybe. It was bound to happen. I just didn't want it to happen in town and with so many people around."

"It was a foolish thing for Ringo to do. Why do you think he risked coming into the saloon?" Wyatt suddenly asked.

She issued a short bitter laugh. "To see me."

"He knew who you were, didn't he?" Doc asked with an edge of anger in his voice.

She nodded. "I saved him from an attack my first night in town. I was foolish and didn't conceal my identity so I had to leave him in Father Martin's care. I lent him my rosary and the day before he was turned, he came to the Oriental to give it back to me. It was my idea to offer him dinner, Doc. You jumped to conclusions when you walked into the kitchen that night." She heard him snort with irritation before she could continue. "Did Ringo say anything to you when he came into the saloon?"

His expression hardened. "Yeah, he said he wanted to finish his dessert." The sadness on her face did little to soften the anger in his heart.

"Poor Johnny. I wish he had stayed at the church.." She muttered to herself.

"Apparently you made an impression on him." Doc snapped as he filled his glass again and quickly tossed the contents down his throat.

"Are you jealous John Henry?" She lightly teased.

"Yes, damn it, I am!" He snapped. "Something you might want to keep in mind for future reference."

She snickered at his temperament. "Apparently I made a bigger impression on you. I shall count myself a lucky woman."

He growled softly and filled his glass again.

Wyatt couldn't hide the humor in his eyes as he watched Alex and Doc banter. "Can we get back to the matter at hand?" Doc shot Wyatt a dark look but wisely kept his mouth shut.

Alex nodded. "Go ahead Wyatt. What else do you want to know?"

"Alex I have so many questions, I don't know where to begin." Wyatt paused a moment to collect his thoughts. "The strange items in your bag. What are they?"

"Hmm." She replied thoughtfully as she looked at the bag that was now sitting by her feet. "You would want to know about that wouldn't you? Is there anyway I can convenience you to forget about what you saw?"

"Absolutely not!" Doc replied on Wyatt's behalf. "I meant what I said when I told you I wanted to hear everything, Alex. Don't even think of wiggling your way out of this."

She studied his face for a moment before reaching for her bag. "Angel is so going to kill me." She muttered to herself.

"You should be more worried about what I'm going to do to you if you don't start explaining." Doc added.

She stopped opening her bag as she shot him a hard look. "You know, Doc, I've had just about enough of your threats. If you think you can bully me into doing what you tell me to do… well, you're going to get a shock to your antiquated Victorian thinking. You might have gotten the upper hand when I first arrived here this evening because I was still struggling to recover from Virgil's healing, but don't think for a moment I can't toss your ass out that front door. You would do well to curb your marital tone of voice."

In place of the humble attitude she was expecting him to display after her scolding, he beamed a bright smile instead. "Women have a very different mind-set in your time, don't they Alex?"

"Quite different, John. We don't meekly do as we're told anymore. If I agree with what you want done I might comply, and if I don't agree you're screwed."

"In short, I should withhold my pseudo-macho, Victorian crap." He tossed back at her with both eyebrows raised. "Did I phrase it correctly, darlin?"

"You have a fine memory, Mr. Holliday."

"And you have a fine right hook, Miss. Montgomery. I recall there was quite a lot of force behind your slap. I guess I should be grateful you hit me open handed." As he reflected he rubbed his cheek in an effort to ease the phantom pain.

Alex smiled in agreement, but the memory of her hand striking out to mark his face made her queasy with unease. She was still amazed at how quickly her temper got out of control while fighting with him that night. Yet at the same time, just his presence within the room had made her knees weak. Their relationship had been so very new, the attraction between them undeniable. His reaction to Ringo's visit had made her spitting mad, but on the other hand, if he had chosen that moment to kiss her she would have welcomed him with open arms and opened legs. Obviously, her emotional response was what some would call angry sex. A theory Doc had proven to her several times over the last couple weeks. _Couple of weeks?_ Dear God, she had known him such a short time, but never had she been more alive. Judging from the look on Doc's face as he gazed back at her, he too was remembering not just the heated words they exchanged, but also the churning, straining sexual tension that had filled her kitchen. _The whole damn relationship has been unpredictable right from the beginning_, she mused, _and it's all his fault_.

As if prompted to support her theory, he proceeded to jerk the rug under her feet yet again. "As for my marital tone, my offer still stands. If you accept, I promise to amend my ways."

She heard Allie suck in her breath right before Virgil shushed her into silence. "You're impossible, Doc."

"I'm Scot-Irish, Alex. Nothing is impossible. But as you said, we can talk about this later." He nodded in the direction of her bag. "Why don't you start with the items in your wallet?" He suggested as he rolled two fresh cigarettes, one for Alex and one for himself.

Alex conceded her defeat and reached into her bag for the wallet. She lifted out her driver's license and gave it to Wyatt. "I was born on December 19th in the year 1978. What you're holding is my driver's license. It's a form of legal identification."

"A license to drive a carriage?"

"Sort of. It's called an automobile. Also known as a car. Probably a vernacular formed from the word carriage."

"Like a steam carriage? I saw one once in Kansas stored in a boxcar on the train. They were transporting it to New York I think. I never got to see it run though." Virgil added as he took her license from Wyatt to make a closer inspection.

"Yes, Virgil it's very similar to that only it now runs on a fuel called gasoline and travels much faster then a steam engine can." She explained as she accepted the lit cigarette from Doc. It didn't escape her attention that Doc took this opportunity to gently stroke her back. Was this his way of reassuring her that he intended to stand by her even through her crazy time traveling explanation?

"Even your money is different." Morgan said as he accepted the bills Alex passed him.

"There have been some changes in the design of the currency. Gold is no long used as legal tender. Gold is still very coveted and precious, but not use for everyday trade. People use paper money and other coins to purchase what they need."

Wyatt rubbed his fingers over the surface of a twenty-dollar bill before he raised his eyes to look at her. "You're not kidding about all of this are you? You're really from the twenty-first century."

She nodded.

"How did you accomplish this? Do other people travel through time as well?"

"No." She replied softly "And if the every day man should discover how to travel through time it would destroy history. Just like Malachi and I destroyed the history in this town."

"Then how…" Wyatt asked.

"I was in California at the time. Angel and I had been chasing Malachi through a series of piers and shipping ports. When he ran into an abandoned warehouse we thought we had him trapped. There was a brilliant flash of light and for just a moment I saw him standing in the middle of the light looking back at me and then he was gone. Just like that." She snapped her fingers. "We saw a small leather book laying on the floor and it turned out to be a spell book. He opened a time portal and fell in. Along the margins of the book were his notes marking this time and place in history. So I followed him."

"And Angel?" Doc asked.

"Angel was furious at me the first night he was here. That's what we were yelling about in my room when he first arrived. You see, I didn't stop to think how I was going to get back home. All I could think about was that Malachi was getting away." She could help but notice the large measure of satisfaction on his face as all the missing pieces to her mystery began to fall into place. "You're loving all of this aren't you?"

"Most definitely."

"Didn't you have the book with you when you arrived?" Morgan asked.

She shook her head. "Almost all spell books are earth bound so they can't travel. This book was no exception."

"But… aren't spells a child's tale?" Wyatt stammered. "I mean… magical spells can't be real, can they?"

If there was ever a time during her story when the Earps and Doc would right her off as crazy, this was it. Carefully and with a measured voice Alex tried to explain. "There are things that exist in the world, Wyatt, that man should not be involved with. Vampires being one of them." She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. "Throughout the centuries, there have always been governing organizations that look out for the general welfare of the common citizen. To name a few, the Masons, the Knights Templar, and the Catholic Church. There are other groups of men who have chosen to fight against the forces of darkness in an effort to defend the greater good, but I won't confuse you by naming them tonight."

"They sound like lawmen." Morgan suggested.

Alex smiled in agreement. "That's correct Morgan. They fight in secret because what they fight against is too terrifying for most people to handle. Part of the secret is controlling the weapons or tools the forces of darkness use to hurt the world. Spell books fall into that category. They're scarce, and very dangerous, but make no mistake, they are also very, very real."

"But traveling through time sounds impossible." Allie suddenly spoke up. "How is it done?"

"Time is a fourth dimension." When her statement only brought more confused looks she tried to clarify. "Dimension is Latin for 'measured out'. It is how we measure things. Take a line you might draw on a piece of paper. That is one dimension" When they all nodded she continued.

"Two dimensions is a when you draw a square. It has four sides but no depth. A three dimensional object has height, length and depth. For instance, a cedar chest or a tool chest is considered to have three dimensions." She gestured to a small chest sitting along one wall in the room. "It has height, width and depth. Four dimensions is time. It is a three-dimensional box in motion. In theory, an object can occupy a space but travel through the minutes, hours, and days and not interact with another object. So, if I were to take that cedar chest and leave it sitting on this floor but speed up the time around it, the chest would still be occupying that space but the time around it would be in motion. This house could be destroyed as time moved but that box would still be sitting right there. My traveling was something like that, only I was in motion falling through time."

She could see her explanation did little to help them understand. "I know it is confusing. Here's another example. Say this dollar bill represents time. If I fold it like a lady's fan, creasing it back and forth to create many little panels." She quickly folded the dollar back and forth several times. "This is time. Each fold, each panel, is a day, or a year, or even a century. I passed through the folds until I stopped here in this century to this year in this town." This explanation seemed to help them understand a little better.

"So time is not a straight line." Doc asked.

"No. Mathematicians believe time is many folds and within those folds maybe many different planes of existence. Like an alternate reality. In each plane, or world, there could be a John Henry Holliday, living basically the same life as you but with slight differences."

"Such as?" Doc urged.

"Well, for instance there might be a different family back ground. Your sister who died a few years before you were born might have lived. Or perhaps, it could have been your father who died when you were fifteen and not your mother." Alex noticed a brief flash of surprise cross his face as she displayed her knowledge of his personal history, but as usual Doc quickly regained control and his expression soon after melted into a sly smirk.

Alex let the moment pass and continued her explanation. "You may still have contracted consumption but you might have stayed and lived out your life in Georgia and not have screwed it up like you did by going to Texas." Her last comment was to let him know she still had not given up on the idea of him returning home to Georgia.

"You sense of humor is faulty, Alex."

"Who says I'm kidding, John."

"So this spell book opened a doorway for you to pass through?" Virgil quickly interupted before Alex and Doc started arguing again.

"Exactly."

"How will you get home? The same way only in reverse?"

She frowned slightly and shrugged. "We're not sure. But we hope so, Virgil."

"Why didn't your friend follow you right away?" Wyatt asked.

"He did. But first he went to find a reversal spell to get us back home. Angel and Spike were only two hours behind me. Time just moved slower for me than it did for them."

"Why is that?" Doc asked.

"Truthfully, Doc I don't know. Physics was not my forte. I majored in history and literature in college."

They all thought quietly for a few moments. Alex took this opportunity to refill her glass and stretch her legs by walking over to the window. Malachi would expect her to have gathered all her friends under one roof for safety. She wanted to keep an eye out for him or his cohorts, just in case they should decide to show up at the Earps house tonight.

"Does anyone want coffee?" Allie offered as she rose from her chair to stretch her legs as well. "I also have some apple pie I made for dinner last night." She continued as she walked into the kitchen. "Thankfully it didn't get ruined like my roast did."

"Amen to that." Virgil mumbled as he tossed back a shot. "Pie and coffee sounds good, sweetheart. Your roast might not be an entire waste either. Maybe Alex can use it as a weapon."

"Keep it up Virgil," Allie called from the kitchen, "and you can sleep in the doghouse with Doc." She frowned when her comment was shortly followed by two snickering men. If she didn't get some food into her husband he'll soon be just as drunk as Doc.

"Any activity, Alex?" Wyatt asked.

"No. But that doesn't mean he's not out there waiting."

"Where are Angel and Spike now?" Doc asked as he approached her from behind.

"They went on a little excursion to the Clanton ranch." She replied as she continued to watch for any movement outside. "I was told to take it easy and stay with you, which is kind of funny considering Angel's done nothing but bitch about my involvement with you since he arrived."

"How do _you_ feel about your involvement with me?" He whispered as he rapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin against her cheek. He purposely pressed his groin against her backside noting that her pants allowed him to feel the outline of her body so much better than a skirt with multiple layers of petticoats.

The heat from his body melded with the heat between her legs. Suddenly her leather pants seemed to constrict, adding to the pressure that was building inside her. She hated that he could stir her desire so easily. As if reading her thoughts he blew softly into her ear before whispering. "Answer me."

"I really haven't given it much thought, John." She lied in a tone that implied indifference.

"Liar." He echoed. "From what I've read you've given it a lot of thought." He was prepared when she angrily jerked in his arms. He increased his hold and chuckled warmly as she struggled to free herself from the confines of his arms. "I say we go back to my hotel room and talk about your thoughts in private." He squeezed her tighter and sucked hard against her neck. He knew he was wearing her down when her grunts of disapproval ended in a sigh. Before she could object, he turned her around to face him and kissed her deeply.

"Hey you two." Morgan called out. "Get a room."

Doc lifted his head to look down at Alex's flushed face. "Excellent idea." He whispered to her. "Promise me?"

Against her better wishes she agreed. _Your only making it worse for yourself_, she thought as she stepped away from his embrace so that she could sit back down on the sofa, _and for Doc as well._

"Tell me about your degree." Doc urged as he sat back down on the sofa next to Alex. He kept his leg pressed against her to keep her in constant contact with his body, hoping the mood he invoked would continue until he could get her alone.

"I graduated from the University of Maine with a degree in literature and history. Malachi has a degree in history as well. I wanted to teach. My hope was to encourage him to eventually take a teaching position with me. But he resisted my pleas to have a more settled life."

"Why?" Morgan asked as he took the heavy tray from Allie's arms and placed it on the coffee table they were seated around.

Alex shrugged. "He liked the excitement of the hunt. He was very good at his job, one of the best Guardians in the organization, and I suspect his status as a Guardian was tied to his self-image." She dropped her gaze to the side as she drew on her recollections from the past. "Malachi's family background was even more wounded than mine. I was fortunate as a child, and was sheltered from witnessing the grief and heartbreak that other members of my family experienced after my parents died. Mal wasn't so lucky. His mother…" Her voice suddenly collapsed. With a trembling hand she wiped at her lips as if something invisible obscured her speech preventing her from finishing the story.

Doc's brow furrowed as he watched Alex struggle with her memories. _My God,_ he wondered, _what kind of organization would solicit such wounded people to fight in this crazy campaign?_

Alex cleared her throat once and continued. "His mother was never the same after the death of Malachi's older sister, Beth. She was half mad with grief, in and out of hospitals, under constant doctor's care. Her emotional turmoil was hard on the family, but it hurt Malachi the most. He was barely a teenager when Beth was taken by a group of vampires." She raised her eyes to focus on Doc. "Beth was eight months pregnant, and they… they turned her… her and the baby living inside her womb. Three weeks after she disappeared, she returned carrying the infant in her arms and tried to gain access into Malachi's home. Fortunately, two Guardians were waiting and stopped her before it was too late. Malachi witnessed the entire thing." She steadied her nerves with a sip of whiskey. "When Malachi was seventeen the Guardians asked him to join them. He's been with them ever since."

"Alex, how did you ever get mixed up in this campaign?" Wyatt asked with a look of concern. "Surely your family would want a better life for you. I mean, law enforcement – I'm supposing your organization is a kind governing power – is a hard life even for a man. Shoot, the pay is lousy, the hours are worse and every day you take a risk with your life." He turned to take the cup of hot coffee Allie offered him along with a large piece of apple pie. "Thanks Allie." He replied as he turned his attention back to Alex.

She shook her head. "It's a long story, and," she paused and aimed her index finger at Doc, "one I'm not going to get into tonight. My time won't allow it. The short version will have to do. I was selected by the Guardians and asked to join, because of my family's history and the circumstances surrounding my parents' death."

"You said they were killed in an accident. Was that also a lie?" Doc's tone was just short of an argument.

She looked sternly at him and raised one eyebrow to mock his attitude. "I think you and I need to get something straight, Doc. About ninety percent of what I told you regarding my history and about me personally was true. It was never my intention to flat out lie to you. I just left out some of the details, or I alluded to a falsehood that might have led you to believe a slightly different version of the truth, but I didn't always lie to you, John. My parents were killed, and for what the outside world knew, it was an accident, but in truth they were attacked by a group of vampires as they were leaving the theater one night. They were not just bitten but torn apart, limb from limb."

She heard Allie cry out softly right before she covered her mouth. Doc's reaction was more subtle; his face paled but his eyes sharpen as the reality of her story took hold in his heart. "The Guardian organization hid the details from the general public. I wasn't told the truth until the year I graduated from high school when I met a man by the name of Arthur Wordsworth. He introduced himself as a senior member of the Guardians."

Sufficiently chastised for his attitude and earlier behavior, Doc made an effort to keep the tone of his voice gentle. "Yes, I recall you mentioning him in your journal. I just assumed he was a friend."

"Arthur is a recruiter for the organization. He is one of the key members who decide on who to solicit for membership. After our initial meeting we quickly became friends. I've always looked at him as an adoptive grandfather. He's been very kind to me over the years, especially after Malachi was turned.

Shortly afterward learning the truth about my parents' death I joined the Guardians. There I met Malachi. He was one of my instructors. Mal is ten years older than I am, but we fell in love immediately and married a short time later. For the past four years I've been working for the Guardians, traveling from one city to another slaying. Wyatt, you're right about one thing, the life style is pure hell, but the pay if fabulous. Not that I get to spend any of it because I travel too damn much to settle down and have a normal life." She declined Allies offer of pie but passed the plate along to Doc instead. The coffee she graciously accepted and at once began to sip the strong brew.

"So, Malachi has been trained as you have." Morgan asked.

She nodded. "That's what makes him so bloody dangerous. Vampires are incredibly strong and fast. Add Malachi's skills and knowledge to his physically attributes and he's next to impossible to kill. Shortly after he returned to me as a vampire I sought Angel's help."

Just the mention of her tall dark friend casted a dark shadow over Doc's face. "What makes him so special?" He asked with a slight sneer.

"Angel is experienced, and … well he has special abilities that will make a difference in our fight." She quickly turned to him and cautioned him with one raised finger. "That's all I'm going to say about Angel."

"What does Malachi want, Alex. There must be a reason he came to Tombstone." Virgil inquired.

"I have a theory, but I'm not sure it's viable."

"Tell it to us anyway." Doc urged.

So, against her better judgment, she did.


	48. Steps Into Madness

**A/N – Hi All! Sorry for the long delay in posting this chapter. I'll have the next chapter up before Christmas. I hope you enjoy the read. Please leave me a review and let me know what you think.

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**Chapter 47 – Steps Into Madness**

"Dig faster!" Malachi screamed into the other man's ear. "Faster! Faster! Faster!" The dusty form that labored heavily under the weight of earth and rock tried to comply but it was hard to swing the pickaxe in such a narrow workspace.

"What are you waiting for? They're coming for you, for us. Hurry. Work faster, damn it." He pushed his way passed the multiple bodies that filled the narrow tunnel as he made his way to the heart of the mine. Up ahead in the distance the tunnel fanned out to reveal a larger room that was heavily lit by the light of several torches and lanterns positioned around the cavern. In there was activity the like of which living breathing humans had never seen. Crates stood end to end, with one stacked on top of another to reach four and five crates high as one vampire after another labored to fill more crates that would then be moved into position. Oh, but there was still more glorious fountains of wealth pouring forth from Mother Earth. It seemed they couldn't make the crates fast enough.

"DIG!" He screamed again at the top of his lungs, and then he started to laugh hard enough to send him spiraling to the earthen floor. Moments later, when his side began to ache, his laughter finally subsided into hiccups as he rolled onto his back and stretched out on the dirt floor. He reached out with his right hand to grasp the reason why he had risked it all: his life, his soul, his career, and his marriage.

Hard and cold like he was now, the large shiny rock gleamed softly in the light as he turned it from side to side. Silver. One of the most sought after metals in the West. Men have killed to own a meager portion of this metal. He knew that for a fact for he had killed, killed plenty since he had been turned. Killed to feed. Killed for anger. Killed for hatred, burning hot. Ah, but the feeding was divine. For weeks on end he had done nothing but feed and feed and feed. Lovely bone snapping, flesh tearing feeding. Feeding that was better than any sex he had ever experience when alive. God it was so good.

Once again he let loose bellows of delight. "Hey Mikey… I ate my Wheaties and now I'm SOOOOO STRONG!" He yelled to no one.

The other vampires in the tunnel only paused from their task for a moment. They glanced nervously at each other before they began to pickup the pace. When their sire started to scream nonsense they knew it was only a matter of time before his random thoughts took physical form.

Unconcerned by the fear circulating through the mine, Malachi continued to contemplate the soft metal as he went over the plans for his future in his head. He was just one step away from achieving his next major goal and with it would come Alex. When he finally had her in his arms again he knew he would find some peace.

Just one more step...

He tossed the rock high into the air, watched it spin and spark with the light as it fell back to earth, before catching it easily only to toss it again. Silently, he began to count the steps he had taken to get to where he was today.

Step one… he had found the pendant while on his honeymoon with Alex. It had been a total accident, really. Until the moment he laid eyes on the ancient gold ornament he had never dared think such perverted thoughts.

They had honeymooned in Greece and spent four glorious weeks as bride and groom. He had been so happy and so proud. How often does an inner city kid from the dirty streets of Philadelphia get to wed a beautiful rich society girl like Alexis? But he had known the moment they met something special transpired between them.

The first time he saw her was at the training fort in Rome. It was obvious to everyone Arthur was leading another fresh lamb into the wolf pen. The moment a possible new recruit walked through the doors of the building their future teetered between two worlds: one world resembled normalcy and the other cold naked truth. Bets were quickly placed as to which option this girl would choose. Malachi had gambled on her choosing the truth. He had seen something in her that sparked his interest that the others hadn't notice. Under the frightened expression in her eyes, he could tell she was determined to explore this new world. He was not disappointed.

Eighteen months after her arrival, she walked back out those same doors no longer a lamb, but a wolf in sheep's clothing. Alex quickly became a topnotch trainee. Although her delicate frame led one to perceive her as weak and docile, she surprised many trainers with her strength and quick reflexes. Her gymnastic skills amazed even the most seasoned Guardian. Soon after her arrival she began to take combat lessons from him. It wasn't long until he was teaching her other more seductive lessons in private. She had not disappointed him in that department either.

The more he saw of her the more he knew he wanted her. Even though he continued to date and fornicate with other women throughout their courtship, Alex seemed to overshadow all her rivals. He made several comparisons and found no one was smarter than Alex, or funnier, or prettier, or as sensual, or as wealthy. Fifty-two days after their first date he proposed marriage. When she eagerly accepted he knew it was one of the happiest days of his life.

Sadly, his joy wouldn't last.

There was an outside market in Greece and Alex wanted to go shopping. While she perused a table of beads and bobbles, he had wandered a short distance away to inspect one merchant's cutlery. He had just bartered for a long thin dagger when he noticed a gold pendant partially buried under some costume jewelry. Thinking it might be a nice present for his new wife, he asked the merchant to see it. When he held it in his hand he got the shock of his life. Quickly, he tossed a wad of bills to the merchant without debating the price and slipped the pendant inside his jacket. When he returned to Alex he presented to her the dagger, keeping the pendant a secret. It was at that moment his trip into hell started.

For months nothing happened, but he was always alert and seeking, always seeking. During the off periods when neither he nor Alex worked, he spent his time reading ancient texts as he looked for a clue to the whereabouts of a very important map. The map was the lock, the pendant the key. If he could put the two together then he would be able to accomplish what no other had been able to do. But the map proved to be very difficult to find. After going through several books, he found only one obscure reference to it in an old Spanish journal written by a priest in the sixteenth century. The padre had been in charge of a small church in the territory that is now known as Arizona, very near the Mexican border. When the church closed in the mid-seventeenth century it had been dismantled and any historical contents had been removed to the Vatican. His search in the darkness now revealed a small beam of light, shining on the path he should take, leading him one step closer to his insane goal.

Alex never suspected a thing. Seemingly oblivious to the twisted thoughts swirling around in his head, she settled comfortably into her new roll as his wife. His young, inexperienced bride was naïve to the nature and often misguided ways of men, and Malachi made damn sure she stayed that way. But he wasn't a monster, he wanted her to be content as his mate. Whatever she wanted he gave her. Whatever the request he granted. All except for one thing, and this he wasn't sure he could ever give her. Soon that one little thing became the focus of all their fights.

Why she insisted on having children was a mystery for him. His own mother never relished her role as his creator, and after what happened to Beth, his older sister, he didn't think he could ever look at another pregnant woman without feeling anger and loss. Children were a nuance, and when compared to all the other things he valued, they came last.

His fights with Alex continued to escalate before finally coming to a head during a Christmas vacation with her aunt and uncle in Paris. From the moment they arrived he sensed hostility radiating from her uncle. It seemed that Alex must have relayed some of her anxiety about their marriage to her family. At the first opportunity her uncle had pulled him into the library and shut the door. Malachi had to give the man credit, he didn't dance around the bush with his thoughts or feelings, instead he blatantly stated his case.

"We, my wife and I, are very distressed to hear about certain aspects of your marriage, Malachi. Alex tells us you adamantly refuse to give her children. We would like to see her more settled and in truth, your children would be a very welcomed addition to the family. I thought perhaps you would want to talk over your concerns with me. Maybe I can help ease your doubts or fears."

He supposed the man was genuinely trying to be helpful and spoke out because of his concern for his niece's happiness. But at the time Malachi was in no mood to confess or indulge the older man. The entire conversation was a damn annoyance, causing him to miss a prime opportunity to investigate another possible location of the map he badly needed before he could move onto the next step of his growing plan.

Needless to say, their talk ended in heated words. Her uncle ended the conversation by admitting he had never approved of Alex's choice of him as her husband, and had been very disappointed to learn she was committed to going through with the ceremony despite his disapproval. One very coarse statement her uncle had made still angered him to this day.

"We had high hopes that Alexis would choose a social equal as a partner. Somehow, I cannot imagine her parents looking on your match with a favored eye. I know her aunt and I do not. How could we approve of a husband who falls so sharply beneath her social level?"

When he tried to defend himself the other man quickly cut him off.

"My opinions do not come lightly, Malachi. I am well aware of your upbringing on the city streets of Philadelphia. Your father is a steel worker in the shipyard and your mother a drunk who never recovered after the tragic death of your sister. Your own brother refuses to participate with his own family and has removed himself overseas to live in Scotland. I admire your fortitude to advance yourself, but how can you think your gutter upbringing can compare to the polished and refined education we have given Alexis? No, I cannot feel otherwise. And now you have the audacity to refuse her life as a mother too? We are very, very disappointed."

It was the last time he had agreed to visit her family. Somehow Alex knew what transpired, which only angered him more. Instead of defending her husband, she had silently sided with her family. Whenever they received an invitation to visit, he would make some excuse why he couldn't go, giving her the opportunity to visit alone. Not once had she ever questioned his decision or reasons, and that hurt him deeply.

It was that painful betrayal that had strengthened his resolve to accelerate his plan. Determined to prove to her and her snotty family his worth, he accepted several assignments from the order without consulting Alex. She had not been pleased with him but accompanied him anyway. After each successful mission they would spend several days, sometimes up to a week, in Rome as they debriefed, which allowed him the opportunity to access the large library at the Vatican.

After several months his persistence paid off. He finally found what he'd been searching for. Lying under a pile of dusty, forgotten books was the map he desperately needed. How ironic that the object of his desire was practically under his nose the entire time. Centuries old, as old as the pendant he always carried on his person, it was drawn on a scrap of animal hide by an unknown Mescalero Apache Indian to mark the outlying territory for a group of lost Spanish explorers. The Mescalero believed the Spanish to be a peaceful people who were just passing through their territory on their way to other unknown settlements. Someone had drawn the map to show them the way and then let them leave unmolested, not realizing the Spanish were secretly coveting the rich source of silver discovered in the Mescalero lands.

The greedy Spanish had returned months later and tried their damndest to take the land and silver from the tribe. They had been sorely mistaken. That blunder had cost them their lives and they were never seen or heard from again.

The pendant had been owned by a man called Javier De La Rosa, who had played a key part of the original exposition that encountered the Mescalero, he had spoken the native language. It was De La Rosa who had noted the exact location of the silver. When the pendant was lined up with the markings in the map and the tip of the pendant was turned to point East, the red ruby stone lay exactly over the location of the silver. Together, map and key would give him all the information he needed to claim one of the biggest silver mines in the West. That was why when he first spied the pendant he had hidden it from Alex. At first he had only wanted to surprise her, but after her uncle's vicious honesty, it became a quest to restore his honor and pride.

He did have just one more small problem to over come. Actually, it was a big problem and it was called time. The current location of the silver was on Cochise County property in Arizona and would not be accessible for him. Nor would it be affordable even if he could get the county officials to sell it. But, if he could turn back the hand of time to the early nineteenth century when mining was all the rage and land was easy to buy and sell, then it was very, very possible he could become one of the richest men alive.

Excited by his acquisition of the map, he had eagerly advanced toward step two of his plan.

All the memories floating around and around in his head caused Malachi to tilt back his head and laugh loud enough to vibrate the sound off the rock walls. The lower vampires around him shuddered with fear and began to dig faster.

But not everyone let their fear show. Hovering in the opening of one dark tunnel, two figures observed the conditions in the mine, unnoticed by the rest of the vampires that worked around them. Dressed in dirty mining clothes, their faces mimicked the other creatures around them providing them with the perfect disguise. Finally, the taller darker figure nodded to his blonde companion and they both lifted their wheelbarrows and moved off in another direction.


	49. Open Mouth, Insert Foot

**Chapter 48 – Open Mouth, Insert Foot**

The moon was high, illuminating the landscape with its eerie pale light. All was quiet and still outside of Virgil and Allie's quaint cottage. Too quiet. Alex turned away from peering out the front window and carefully closed the curtain. As the hours ticked by she was becoming more and more nervous. _Where are you now Malachi and what are you thinking?_

She pulled her wristwatch out of her pants pocket and noted the time. It was getting late and she really should head back to the hotel to check on Angel and Spike. She also needed to get some more rest. The fatigue of the evening was taking its toll on her. She was sure if she stopped talking for five minutes she'd fall sound asleep.

They had been conversing for hours, but her friends were still too excited from all that she had told them this evening to let her leave. The items in her bag seemed to hold the most interest. She finally gave up trying to conceal most of the contents from them and had openly handed over the bag to Wyatt to explore. For the last hour they've been playing a kind of question and answer game, with her doing all the answering.

She leaned back against the window frame and watched them examine each item with care. It really was extraordinary how excited they were about some of the most ordinary things she always toted around. Everything from her fighting weapons to her flashlight was now on display and openly discussed. Watching them made her realize how much she had taken modern mechanics for granted.

Wearily, she tilted her head back until it rested against the window frame and closed her eyes. Blessed relief was immediately felt in her hot, tired eyes followed by a warm floating sensation in her body. She knew it was entirely possible she could fall asleep standing up. She couldn't help but silently laugh at the thought. _Wouldn't Doc be in a state if I just tipped over and fell to the floor? _She shook off her fatigue before she really did fall asleep and raised her head in time to see the object of her affection return from the kitchen with her toothbrush proudly held in one hand.

"Well," she inquired, "what's the verdict?

He smiled and waved the brush and toothpaste tube at her. "I'm keeping this." He stated firmly.

Her lips twitched at the corners as she worked hard to contain her amusement. "Why am I not surprised? So, does your mouth feel any cleaner then usual?" She asked as he stepped in close.

"Why don't you tell me?" He uttered in a sensual whisper right before he closed his lips over hers and kissed her.

Several moments later when he finally raised his head she gave him an over dramatized look of amazement. "Oh my! Definitely, much, much, much better."

He raised one eyebrow at her dry humor. "Don't get too carried away, darlin. You might want to use it next."

She moved to lightly punch his arm, which he easily block as he beamed at her. "Well, now that we're sharing a toothbrush I suppose we'll just have to get married." She lightly quipped.

The gaiety of the moment quickly faded when Doc gave her a firm look, grabbed her hand and pulled her back to the sofa. "If only it were that easy." He mumbled dryly.

"Alex, I'm dying to know about this small device with all the numbers. What does it do?" Morgan asked.

Alex smiled and reached for the cell phone Morgan held. "Tonight is kind of like Christmas, right Morgan?" She held the cell phone up for the others to see. "Everyone has one of these. It's the best little invention ever. It's a personal communication device called a cell phone. In my time I can call anyone anywhere throughout the world." She turned the phone on and handed it back to Morgan who held it like it was going to bite him any minute as he looked with wonder at the now illuminated screen and hot blue buttons.

"You don't really mean you can talk to people in the next state or the next country?"

"Not only the next state Morgan, but I can call Rome or China if I choose. Or I can call my girlfriend and ask if she wants to go to dinner. Oh, it can also play music."

"Music?" Morgan narrowed his eyes with suspicion as he glanced at the small device sitting in the palm of his hand. "Are you teasing me, Alex?"

Alex met his scrutinizing gaze with a slight shake of her head. "Honest Morgan, it can really play music." She reached for the phone again, pushed a few buttons, and suddenly a tune began to play and a man began to sing.

_Hey girl what ya doin' down there  
Dancin' alone every night while I live right above you?  
I can hear your music playin'  
I can feel your body swayin'  
One floor below me you don't even know me  
I love you _

Oh, my darling  
Knock three times on the ceiling if you want me  
Twice on the pipe if the answer is no  
Oh, my sweetness  
(knock, knock, knock) Means you'll meet me in the hallway  
Twice on the pipe means you ain't gonna show 

Morgan squealed with delight and leaned in closer to get a better look. "I can't believe it. How does it work?" Virgil and Wyatt were not as thrilled as their brother. They continued to exchange wary glances with one another clearly intimidated by the futuristic device before them, but Allie seemed to share Morgan's enthusiasm as she leaned in to get a better look.

Alex passed Morgan the device to hold and watched with wonder has he carefully inspected every detail of the cell phone before passing it to Allie. "It's a recording of a song." She explained. "Stored on something called a microchip inside the phone." Of course he still looked confused and she didn't really expect him to understand the mechanics, which was a blessing, because she herself had only an elementary understanding of how the phone worked. "In a few years there will be something called a radio that will pick up music carried over the air from antenna to antenna. Then you will be able to hear a song sung from a stage in New York in the privacy of your living room. But that won't happen for a few years yet. Actually, I believe the telephone is just starting to make an appearance now." She looked toward Doc for confirmation. When he nodded she turned back to Morgan.

"What else do you want to know?"

"What about the gun and ammunition Doc saw you use?" Wyatt asked.

She reached over for her vest and pulled free her handgun. "Semi-automatic. The ammunition clip inserts here." She pressed a button and the clip fell out of the gun. "You can fill up the clip again and insert it. I always carry an extra clip or two." She handed the gun to Wyatt butt end first. "Be careful there's a round in the chamber."

"I hope you can learn to shoot as well as you cook Alexis." Doc teased.

"I shoot just fine, Mr. Holliday and any time you want to test that theory I'll be glad to give you a demonstration."

"What happened the other night then?"

"I was a little worked up. It was my first sighting of Malachi since my arrival, and to top that off he was coming out of your room. I managed to hit him with a dart and if he hadn't stumbled I would have struck him in the back with the third dart I tossed. By the way, you interrupted my chase that night, but I'm very glad you didn't shoot at me as I suspect you wanted to."

"Your power of deduction is sound. I almost did, but by then your alias was showing and Wyatt had already formed a strong theory about your reasons for being in town. Since I strongly suspected it was you under that black cloak I decided not to shoot."

He looked away from her as he fingered her toothbrush and toothpaste. Alex got the impression he was remembering what they had spoken about that evening. Finally, he looked up at her and the level of emotion displayed in his eyes confirmed her suspicions. "You really had me fooled that evening Alex, but I guess I don't have to wonder why you created such elaborate lies. Obviously, the truth would have been more disturbing then the fantasy."

She laid her hand on the small of his back hoping the subtle contact would sooth his injured pride. "I was very glad Angel was able to convince you to switch hotels. If anything had happened to you I'd never be able to live with the guilt."

"What a team you two make," he replied in a cool tone as he looked away and began to fill his whiskey glass again, "and how easily you manipulated me."

"Doc, it's not what you think…" She started to explain but he quickly cut her off.

"Wyatt, why don't you tell her how you unraveled her mystery?"

She continued to stare at Doc hoping he would give her an opening to explain herself, but he avoided her gaze as he proceeded to roll cigarette. Gently, she caressed his back, praying that physical contact would speak louder than words, then she looked toward Wyatt. "How did you figure it out, Wyatt?"

His blue eyes crinkled and turned upward at the edges as he smiled. "You forgot to change your shoes the night Doc took sick. When I saw your black boots I added up a couple of other things, like your size for instance, which allowed you to hide behind Ike that night. Throw in the fact that you disappeared right after we left for the Clanton ranch…."

"That was a very risky thing to do, Wyatt." She scolded.

Wyatt continued, unfazed by her interruption. "…and that your arrival in town was timed with the first appearance of the figure in black. I guess my theories are solid ones."

She sighed loudly with fatigue. "Well, now that my hand is showing, I suppose I don't need to sneak around anymore."

Wyatt nodded in agreement. "What's next on your agenda, Alex?"

"Hmm, that depends on what Angel and Spike discover tonight. Until then we wait for reinforcements."

"What reinforcements?" Virgil asked with obvious interest. "Do the Guardians have a cavalry to come storming to our rescue?"

"Actually, Virgil, they do. And with a little luck they'll be here in a day or two."

"You called for help?" Morgan asked.

She nodded. "I asked Father Martin to let the Guardians know we have a situation here that needs immediate assistance."

Virgil looked at Wyatt and then turned back to Alex. "How many are you expecting?"

"I asked for a dozen or more. Hopefully it will be more. Until they get here I want you to declare a seven o'clock curfew in town. I'd like to see as few people on the streets after dark as possible."

"Curfew hell!" Virgil snapped. "How the hell do we defend ourselves against these things, Alex?"

"You don't. That's my job." She replied firmly. "Once the sun sets you get your family and friends inside. The boundary I placed around your house should protect you, and they can't get inside unless they're invited. So, don't let anyone in after dark. Friend or foe, it they can't walk through those doors without being asked then close the door on them. After dark you won't able to tell who is a vampire and who isn't. So don't try."

"Boundary? Do you mean the lavender and sage?" Doc butted in much to Virgil's annoyance.

"The very same. I dusted your room, Wyatt's and the outside of both Virgil's house and Morgan's. Please, stay inside at night."

Her confession seemed to unnerve him for a moment. Doc turned to Wyatt to gage his reaction before turning back to Alex. "How do the herbs prevent them from entering."

"The herbs are considered to be pure. They've been used for centuries in blessings, baptisms, and burials. They're crushed and made into incense to fragrant the air during mass. Why those two herbs combined form such a strong protection is a mystery, but some theological scholars believe they were used to anoint the body of Christ. I used the herb and a strong protection spell. I doubt you'll be disturbed. They can't enter your home unless you invite them in. Fire, sunlight, and holy relics will hurt them maybe even kill them. Decapitation and a wooden stake through the heart will definitely kill them. Shoot them and you'll only piss them off."

"We discovered that for ourselves last night, Alex." Doc added in a somewhat irritated tone. "What about Fly's, Malachi got in there?"

"Rooming houses and hotels have an invite sign on the front door, welcoming the undead inside. I tried to get access to your room earlier, but you made things very difficult, Doc." Within seconds she realized her mistake – she had said too much. _Open mouth and insert foot._

As he looked back at her his eyes suddenly narrowed and lit with fire from within. "I don't fucking believe it!" He jumped up from the sofa and turned to tower over her as he vented his anger.

"Doc, it's not what you think." She stammered.

"Not what I think, Alex? Why you conniving little whore. I believe you think faster on your feet than Kate does." He leaned down, grabbed her by the arms and hauled her to her feet. "Did I foul up your plans by being at home when you called? Let me guess… if I hadn't answered the damn door, you would have let yourself in, performed your little task and left? I'm I right?"

"Yes." She answered so softly only Doc heard her. He let her go by pushing her back onto the sofa. "Tell me Alex, how much do you miss me now?"

"I meant every word I said, you knucklehead, and don't you think for a moment I didn't." Doc's violent movements had brought Virgil to his feet, but Allie wisely restrained him by holding tight to the sleeve of his shirt.

Doc scoffed loudly and turned away as he tried to compose his temper. He rubbed his hand over his forehead as if the sour conversation had suddenly given him a headache. "God, what a damn fool I've been." He said with his back still turned. "You've done nothing but lie to me from the beginning. At every opportunity you've lied." He spun around and Alex could tell from the heat in his eyes he was still in a rage. "Even in my bed! You fucked me and lied to me at the same time!"

A noise from the rear of the cottage told Alex that Doc's shouts of rage had disturbed Louisa and Josie. They hovered in the doorway afraid of walking into the middle of the argument. Doc glanced briefly in their direction before he stalked over to where his coat and hat lay.

"Not even Kate was this cruel." He cried as he punched his arms through the sleeves of his coat.

Just as soon as he reached for his coat Alex jumped to her feet. "Please John, let me explain. Things are not as they seem."

"You've done enough explaining tonight, my dear. I've heard all that I can bear." He placed his hat on his head and then checked his weapon.

"Where are you going?" She asked as she grabbed his arm.

He threw off her hold and moved to the door. "I'm going back to the hotel to get good and drunk."

Quickly, she blocked his path and placed both hand on his shoulders. "Not alone you're not."

His hand snaked out to grab her by the throat as he pushed her away. "Well, I'm certainly not going with you."

She let him push her not wanting to make the situation any worse by getting physical with him. Carefully she kept her distance as she talked in a calm steady voice. "Don't be stupid. Malachi has tried to kill you twice. I'm not letting you out of my sight."

He issued a cold cynical laugh. "Not a chance Alex. You're not welcome in my bed anymore. Go find some other fool to fuck around with." Then he turned and walked out the door.

Wyatt was instantly behind him. "Doc, she's right. Stay here with us. There's safety in numbers. Wait until the sun's up before you go out into the streets."

Doc stopped walking but didn't turn around to face his friend. Wyatt heard him exhale loudly. "I know she's right, Wyatt. But at the moment, I'm too damn angry to stay in the same room with her. Besides, I can take care of myself. I don't need a woman to protect me." Then he continued on his march back to the hotel. Within moments Wyatt lost all sight of his form as it blended with the evening shadows. He turned back to the open door and found Alex fully dressed with her bag over her shoulder.

"I'll make sure he gets home safe. Come see me after the sun's up. We'll continue our talk then."

He nodded once and watched her disappear exactly as Doc had.

By the time Doc was just a few blocks from the hotel he was more hurt than angry. He had truly believed she cared for him. How foolish he had been. It had all been part of her job. She hadn't really been harboring romantic feelings for him, she had just been protecting him and he fell for her like a schoolboy. He issued a bitter laugh. He had even proposed marriage. What a fool and what a fool's dream.

A small sound to his right stirred him from his thoughts. He turned to look toward the dark alleyway but all he saw were shadows. _Alex_, he thought. _Of course,_ s_he's following me_. Well, he wouldn't make the job too hard for her. He reached into his pocket for his tobacco and began to roll a smoke. When he flicked his thumbnail across the match head he heard the sound again. Angrily he tossed the match to the ground. "Come out where I can see you Alex!" There was a small scoffing noise followed by a short laugh.

Doc quickly shifted his weight as he threw open his coat and rested his hand on his gun. "Alex, I mean it." He threatened but with less conviction this time. Somehow he was feeling that whoever was watching him was not Alex. He waited a moment more before he turned away. He had only walked two or three paces before he was attacked.

The weight of his attacker told him immediately it wasn't Alex. He was knocked face first to the ground. When his gun went flying from his hand he began to feel the first trembling of fear, but his attacker didn't give him much time for that emotion to take hold in his heart. His head was immediately pulled back exposing a large portion of his neck. From the corner of his vision Doc saw the demon's face.

"Not Alex." It giggled. "Name's George."

Doc jerked back his elbow, landing a solid blow to the demon's gut, knocking his attacker backward. Then he turned, and rolled to his feet. His gun was too far from his reach and would do him little good against the creature standing before him. Instead, he reached behind his back for the long blade that had been a constant friend since his departure from Georgia. He pulled the knife free of the sheaf and when the demon came at him again he was ready. "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, George. My name's Doc Holliday."

Rather than slashing his opponent in a sideways motion, Doc's hand shot straight out, taking the vampire by surprise. The razor sharp blade sank into the demon's neck like hot metal passing through warm butter until the tip emerged out the other side. Doc jerked his arm to the left and George gurgled loudly as blood poured from his mouth. Then he jerked his arm to the right and George went '_poof'_. An auspicious breeze blew and carried what was left of George into the night air.

Doc would have been very pleased with his victory if it hadn't been for the other two vampires now flanking his right. "That gentlemen," he declared as he switched the knife to his left hand and pulled out his other gun, "was poor George. Would you care to join him?"

They came at him so fast he barely had time to step to one side before he pivoted on his heel and readied himself for another attack. _Alex, I'll never be able to tell you how sorry I am,_ he thought as the vampires separated and began to circle around him.

* * *

**Song lyrics taken from "Knock Three Times" by Tony Orlando & Dawn. Written by Brown/Levine.**

**A/N - Well, I was finally able to get this posted. Sorry for the delay. I'm not sure if I'll get another one up before Christmas, so I want to wish each of you all the best for the holiday. Peace, Happiness, Love!! **

**As always, thanks for reading and please leave me a review. **


	50. We Can Be Different

**Chapter 49 – We Can Be Different**

There was a dark movement and a sound like cloth fluttering in the wind right before one vampire screamed and then exploded. Now that the odds were improved, Doc took the opportunity and turned to slash out with his knife at the other vampire. It only took two thrusts of the sharp blade before he also screamed and fell into eternity. Doc's heart was still hovering around in his throat, but he managed a small smile as he turned to face his savior.

"Honestly darlin, I must commend you on your ti…ming."

His words dried up. The tall black being standing in front of him was not Alex. He was clothed like Alex, in head to toe black with his face completely concealed by the cowl attached to the long cloak he wore. In each gloved hand he held a long three-tapered sword that gleamed like silver death in the moonlight.

In a flash, the being twirled the silver swords around in his hands several times ending in a crossed arch over his head before he spun them once more, and in a sudden motion tucked them away under his cloak. He bowed slightly to Doc and began to back away, but abruptly stopped to look just beyond Doc's shoulder. When Doc turned he saw another dark figure only this one was smaller and not as robust in build. The smaller figure nodded its head to the larger one and when Doc turned back around the larger being had vanished.

Alex walked toward him to stand by his side he and he looked down into her bright green eyes with relief. "They're here." She said simply.

Once back at the hotel Doc immediately poured a large drink. Alex had begun to rant and rage at him as soon as they got into the room, but he ignored her until he had swallowed every drop of the bourbon he had poured. Then he refilled his glass and turned to address the woman standing before him.

"What a God damn idiot you are sometimes." She continued as she paced back and forth across the room. She had yet to take her cloak off and the black wool material flowed gracefully around her with each angry step. Doc had his first opportunity to observe Alex up close while dressed in her full patrolling gear. The black leather jacket and pants combined with the cloak and firm steps she took with her black boots gave her a dark foreboding appearance. One he never would have associated with the polite, well mannered cook that had somehow stolen his heart. It was almost if he had fallen in love with two women – one presented the perfect front of normal respectability and the other more dark, mysterious and dangerously skilled then he cared to know. He couldn't help but wonder which woman was the real Alex.

"I quite agree." He mumbled as he sat on the bed to remove his boots.

"Fucking stubborn Irishmen. No wonder you got in so much trouble when you came west. You court it. You beg for it. And, damn it John, you almost bought it tonight. Do you have any idea…"

He stood and held his hand over her mouth to shut her up. "Alex, please, I'm not arguing with you. You are quite right. I'm a complete idiot." She continued to flash angry eyes at him but her lecture had finally ended.

He sighed loudly and walked barefoot to the window and took another deep drink from his glass as he looked out on the still streets below. Not one soul graced the usually busy streets tonight. It was down right spooky. From behind him Alex issued a weary groan as she flopped down into the nearest cushioned chair.

"This is my fault. I take full responsibility."

Her voice had a sober tone that immediately caught his attention. He closed the curtain over the window before he turned to look at her. Her posture displayed her exhaustion. She leaned heavily on the arm of the chair, her eyes were closed and her face rested in the palm of her hand. A wave of guilt hit him hard. Instead of causing her more grief by storming out of the cottage, he should have insisted she return to the hotel to rest. Well, now that they were here and safe from harm he would abstain from any more discussion tonight and tuck her into his bed.

"Don't be ridiculous. The fault was mine. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions regarding your reasons for coming to my room that day. It's just that… well, my pride was hurt.

When she raised her eyes to look at him he knew immediately something was very wrong. Instead of the usual warmth he always saw reflecting back at him, he saw nothing but a cold business like bleakness. "That's not what I meant."

"Alex, you're tired and I'm tired. Neither one of us is making a hell of a lot of sense right now." He sat down opposite of her and tried to calm the fluttering of alarm in his stomach.

Alex made an effort to keep her posture stiff and formal. A numbing sensation came over her that allowed her to hold off her pain until she could finish what she had decided to do. "Actually, my perspective is suddenly very clear, probably for the first time since my arrival." She said in a very calm even tone as she leaned slightly forward and looked him straight in the eyes. "John, I need you to listen to what I have to say."

He interrupted her, hoping to ward off disaster. "Clarity of one's perspective is hardly something to expect at two o'clock in the morning, Alex. We should get some sleep." He quickly finished his drink and prayed for the chemically induced sensation of calm to over take him.

Slowly, she shook her head. As softly and as gently as she could she announced, "I'm ending this right now, John. We cannot continue."

His breath stuck in his throat and the first sharp arrow of pain shot through is chest. "Why?" He pleaded. "For the first time since we've met we are finally on equal footing." He reached for her, wanting desperately to caress away the coldness he saw displayed on her face, but before he could make contact with her cheek she lean back against the chair to avoid his touch.

"This is wrong, you know it and so do I. I've done nothing but put you in danger. Not only you but the Earps as well." She shook her head with more conviction this time. "No. This ends tonight. I can't see you anymore, not romantically anyway." She stood up to take her leave. "I'm sorry if I hurt you. That was never my intention."

He quickly followed and grabbed her by the arm. "Alex, don't do this, please. When you're rested we'll talk some more." Even though he held her not one foot from his body, she remained aloof, her posture cold and stiff. In short, he could tell she was mentally and physically backing away from him. The painful agony in his chest bloomed anew, but he knew no amount of whiskey or laudanum would ever quench the ache.

Alex took a deep breath and proceeded on her current path of destruction. "I wanted our relationship to end on good terms. That has always been my intention. It was never an option for me to stay in this time period, nor was it possible to bring you back with me."

"What are you saying?" Unconsciously his voice rose in timber and he swallowed hard in an effort to hold his feelings in check.

"You know what I'm saying. All you need do now is face it, get over it, and move on. Please promise me you'll go home to Georgia, at least for a little while."

"God damn you, Alex." He snapped at her while tightening the grip on her arm. "You're not going to walk out on me. Not now."

"Then when?!" She retorted. "If not now, when? You know it has to be this way. Why wait and make it hurt more?" She violently jerked her arm free from his grasp, managed to take two steps toward the door when he stopped her again.

"Damn it, why must it hurt at all?"

Whatever composure she tried to maintain came crashing down and her face betrayed the pain she tried to hide. "Do you have another solution?" She cried as tears filled her eyes. "Because I don't." He tried to take her in his arms to comfort her, but she refused to yield. "There is no solution. There never is. My whole life has been one obstacle after another, and not one… not one had a solution to my liking. I always had to swallow my pain and push on. There was no solution after my parents were murdered. There wasn't a solution after I was quickly and conveniently packed away to a boarding school with all hope for a family distinguished. And there wasn't a solution after I found I had married a man who had no intention of giving me a normal life. This situation is no different."

The degree of her sorrow made him long to help ease her pain. "We can be different." He promised. "You've made so very happy Alex."

She issued a short dry laugh and pushed him away. "I've almost got you killed," she held up her hand and displayed three fingers, "three times, John. "What I'm trying to do is so very dangerous. More dangerous than anything you have ever mixed up in before. I don't have a choice, but you do. I have to fulfill my husband's wishes. I made him a promise right after we were engaged that I would never turn my back on him if he should ever be turned and he made the same vow to me. I intend to honor that pledge or die trying. I can't do that if you get hurt or killed because I was selfish and needy. Please, I'm begging you, stay out of this. Take those stage tickets and get as far away from here as you can."

"I will do no such thing!" He growled.

But Alex wasn't listening. She ignored him as she continued. "Don't you understand? If we continue our affair then I'm going to end up getting us both killed. We have to end this, now. I'm sorry."

Walking away from him and closing the door behind her was one of the hardest things she ever had to do. As she started down the hallway that led back to Angel's room her head began to feel fuzzy like it was full of cotton. The sensation was compounded by a tremor that was running through her arms and legs making it hard to keep her balance. Her stomach joined in by flipping and tumbling. She concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, slowly at first and then she began to pick up speed until she was running. Only once did she stumble and after that she kept one hand trailing along the wall to keep her balance.

Once she got to the hotel room door she struggled to unlock it before finally flinging it open and running directly into the bath. She vomited for a full five minutes, resting on the cold ceramic floor in between intervals. When her stomach was finally empty and felt much calmer, she burst into tears. It was times like this when she wished she could take a Valium or a good dose of laudanum to numb the pain.

_Stupid, you knew this would happen_. Yes, she knew it would come to this, her heart broken and John in a full rage and unable, or unwilling, to understand why they couldn't be together. She hoped his grief would be brief and that he would eventually see reason and return home to Georgia. That had always been her hope. Since he wasn't in love with her there was no reason for him to linger over their affair.

Her pain, in comparison, would last much longer, perhaps forever. If she managed to survive her mission and return to her time she would have to face reality, John would be long dead and buried. Just the thought alone brought a sharp ache to her chest. He would have years to forget about her, letting time heal his wounds, but for her fate wouldn't be so kind. Time traveling only took seconds to accomplish. She would leave behind a living breathing man and have to face reality just moments later that he was dead. How then, would she find the strength to live out the rest of her days? As she rose from the cold bathroom floor she had only one hope left and that lay in the sharpness of Malachi's sword. If she were very lucky, her death would be quick.

She shrugged out of her patrolling clothes and put on a long chemise. It would be day soon and still Angel and Spike hadn't returned from the Clanton ranch. She couldn't think what to do if something should happen to them. Actually, she couldn't think period. She was just too tired to function anymore tonight. When she finally climbed into bed the sheets were cool and inviting but she found no solace in them for she was acutely aware of the absent warm body that was usually wrapped around hers. Her tears threatened to over take her again but she swallowed hard and pushed them away. Curling up on her right side she wrapped her left arm around a pillow in an effort to sooth the ache in her chest. In her right hand she held his handkerchief against her cheek as the scent of the previous owner helped her drift into an uneasy sleep.

She had said she was sorry, but somehow he doubted that. The method of her cool departure spoke volumes louder than her meager words. He had been dismissed as easily as a servant and he had stood in shock as she breezed through the door and out of his life.

Now what was he to do?

Doc had very little experience when it came to chasing women. How does one convince an intolerant female to consider a change of heart? He hadn't clue. Whenever his disagreements with Kate had escaladed to the point when either she or he would storm out the door he had always experienced a sense of profound relief. For a while afterward, he would be free to do and act as he pleased. Usually his time would be spent drinking and gambling for hours that led into days. Inevitably his behavior always ended with him taking sick and Kate coming back to nurse him and sooth his foul mood with sex. After his recovery, he had always been thankful for her care and his sense of obligation would warrant a reconciliation and their relationship would continue as it had before.

His love affair with his cousin Mattie had not proceeded after she rejected his marriage proposal even though he had stayed in town to pressure her for several months. Finally, heartbroken and humiliated by her continuous rejection he left and never returned.

Within weeks of his departure he received her first letter. He remembered clearly how excited he had been when he saw her return address on the envelope. Hope began to bloom in his heart as he eagerly torn open the seal. It was obvious to him that Mattie had a change of mind and was writing him to request that he return home, but as he read her letter he realized that was not the case. She had only apologized again, and wished him well with his new dental practice and business partner, and then she proceeded to bore him to death with mundane news of the town and his various relatives. In a fit of anger he burned the offensive letter and spent three days in the raunchiest section of town drinking and gambling.

That had been the beginning of his fall from grace and the end of John H. Holliday, D.D.S.

Mattie continued to write with regularity that spoke of her cousinly devotion but he no longer expected her to change her mind. She did not love him and there was very little he could do or say to alter that reality. How then, was he to work on Alex? What could he say or do to change her mind that he hadn't done already? After having spent many years apart from Mattie his heartache had faded. But he strongly doubted he would get over what he felt for his little blonde cook. Years spent living without her seemed very bleak indeed, and for the first time since his remarkable cure of consumption he wished for death. Living without her was not something he wanted to do.

He settled on the sofa with a full bottle of bourbon with the intention of drowning his sorrow until he passed out, but even that plan failed him. Until this moment he never realized how hard it was to drink and cry at the same time.


	51. Something Wicked This Way Comes

**I took liberty by using some strong language in this chapter. I apology if any of you are offended, but I felt it was necessary to convey the correct tone for the chapter. Enjoy and don't forget to leave me a review.

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**Chapter 50 – Something Wicked This Way Comes**

Angel had seen it all. After nearly two hundred and fifty years what could possibly be new? The modus operandi was always the same for every egocentric, domination hungry, maniac that coveted a position of power. The details of how and when such a creature takes form didn't vary much from fanatic to fanatic. Actually, the particulars were pretty much a bore.

First came _'the push'_ as boundaries were tested for strength. It was a childish maneuver that every two-year old knew well. How far could the reach be extended and how much could be claimed before someone notice and smacked you back into line. Then came _'defiance' _when the normal reprimand no longer had an impact, when instilled values and morals began to seem trivial. It was at this particular stage of development when the infantile maniac would teeter on the very edge of right and wrong, one small step to either side would make all the difference in the world between rectitude and corruption.

Somewhere earlier on, Alex's husband had made the fatal error and stepped off on the wrong side, leaving his wife stranded on the opposite shore. Despite this mistake, there still might have been the opportunity and time to make things right, but now that Malachi was a vampire there was no going back.

Sadly, Angel knew that love would often endure after death and even the loss of a soul. The basic fundamental design of an individual would remain true after the transformation. Some elements of the personality would often be enhanced or subdued, but we are what we are even after dying and being reborn as a dark and unnatural monster. Malachi was a prime example of that theory, and his obsession with Alex was a train wreck waiting to happen. The wheels he had set in motion while alive he continued after death. The demonic element only added more fuel to his fiendish plan. From the evidence and activity Angel saw in the mine, that locomotive of destruction would be pulling into Tombstone any day now, unleashing hell itself over the residents of the town.

He never told Alex that he had encountered her husband long before they met and got married. Malachi had just been a fledgling Guardian when Angel accidentally crossed his path while passing through Philadelphia, Malachi's hometown. Thankfully, the meeting had been brief and uneventful. As soon as Angel realized he had come face to face with a Guardian, he simply fled. Not the most heroic thing to do, but definitely the smartest. Later on, he heard stories of how good of a slayer Malachi had become and he counted himself as fortunate that he had chosen to run rather than take a chance and fight.

But there would be no retreating this time. There was too much as stake. History, this town, and his new friend were all hanging in the balance. Malachi had created a very large and very dark storm that was ready to break at a moment's notice and Angel intended to stop him or die trying.

"What a fucking nightmare." Spike hissed under his breath so that only Angel would hear him.

"Keep a cool head and both your eyes open. At the first opportunity we make a break for it." Angel pull his hat further down over his head and checked to see if his upturned collar was still concealing most of his demonic face. He bent down once more and began to shovel more dirt into a wheelbarrow that stood to one side.

Spike set his jaw as he flashed a worried glance at Angel. "Well, it had better be soon. My internal clock tells me the sun will soon be up and I don't relish being trapped down here." He too began to shovel dirt as the wheelbarrow slowly filled.

Once again manic laughter echoed from tunnel to tunnel, causing several demons to stare wide-eyed into the dark openings as they wondered when and where their crazed leader would suddenly emerge.

Spike stopped and stared with the others. He shivered once before he turned back to his task. "That bloke has slipped his foundation."

"Reminds me a little of Drusilla." Angel replied lightly.

Spike lifted a large rock out of his way as he tossed Angel a dark look. "Bollocks. He's nothing like Drusilla." He replied strongly. "He's a hell of a lot worse. Actually, his vision reminds me of you when you were at your peak."

Usually, Spike's cutting remarks always warranted a smart comeback or a dark look, but his last observation was too close to the truth for Angel to reprimand. "Keep your voice down and shovel before you draw too much attention. When we take this load to the dump we'll try to make a break for it."

Spike nodded once and began to work faster.

* * *

She had only been asleep an hour or more when she felt a soft touch on her shoulder. Startled by the contact, she yelped and jumped to a sitting position. "Son of a bitch." Alex gasped as she peeled her back away from the headboard of the bed. "Don't _ever_ do that again."

"Sorry." Angel replied meekly. "You were pretty out of it, even snoring a little."

She tossed him a scathing look. "Yes, so I've been told."

"Holliday?" He asked with a smirk.

"The very same." A jolt of pain sank into her heart but she did her best to hide it. Eventually, she would have to tell Angel about her break up with Doc, but for the moment she wanted to hear about his trip into the mine. "What happened? I was starting to worry?" She looked over at Spike who was standing by the wet bar downing a full glass of scotch.

"Malachi's got the entire complex locked down. We had to fight our way to the surface. Killed six of them on our way out. He'll know we've been in there now but there was no other way to get out." He turned to except the glass Spike handed him and drank deeply.

"To make a long story short, love, your assumption was correct. We've got a big fucking mess on our hands and not enough fighting power to stop him." Spike summarized as he took a seat at the foot of her bed.

She shook her head. "Not true. The Guardians are here. I came across one a few hours ago."

"Just one?" Angel asked.

"That's all I saw, but I'm sure there are more." She began to scoot off the bed. "I'll get dressed and see what Father Martin has to report."

Angel reached out to stop her. "Alex, it's barely daybreak. Why don't you sleep for a few more hours. actually, Spike and I could both use a break. Then, after we've rested, we can talk about what to do."

She looked toward the window, nodded once and eased back against the pillows of the bed. "I'm glad you got out ok, Angel. Did you get a good head count while you were in there?"

"Yeah." He rubbed his hand over his weary eyes. "We're seriously out numbered He's got over a hundred working in those tunnels. Most of them are Mexican but there are quite a few town people as well. He's stocked with guns, ammunition, explosives and provisions."

"Cattle?" She asked slightly alarmed. "No prisoners I hope."

Angel shook his head. "No. Just cattle. But the situation is as bad as it can get."

"It's going to be a war then." She wasn't asking, she was only verbalizing her inner suspicions.

"Yes," he replied with a level tone, "and if he wins then the Western half of the United States is screwed."

* * *

The sun streaming through the windows hurt his eyes. Doc shielded his vision with one arm somewhat easing the pounding headache he had. He had almost drifted back to sleep when a soft knock on the hotel room door startled him, causing him to quickly lift his head; the sudden movement sent a bolt of pain across his blurry vision. He tipped his head back against the sofa again and moaned while lifting the bottle to his mouth to quench his thirst. After several deep swallows he forgot about the door.

But the soft knocking continued.

Once again he raised his head and stared at the two blurry doors the led to the hallway. When he squinted the two doors blended into one. The knock came again and his heart leaped for joy. _Alex,_ he thought. _She's changed her mind._

He brought the bottle to his mouth once more and rose from the sofa. The room swayed under his feet, and he stumbled sideways before he could steady his gate. _Damn. Must be out of practice. _Pushing forward he staggered to the door and tossed back the lock. He expected to see her remorseful and contrite face as he opened the door, but he was wrong.

"Hello Doc, honey. I'm back." Kate chirped cheerfully as she leaned in to kiss his cheek.

"Kate?" He asked with a great deal of confusion.

"Who else." She declared as she pushed by him and into the room beyond.

Doc leaned out into the hallway and looked up and down. Alex was nowhere in sight. He turned to face Kate and leaned back against the frame. "Why are you here?" He demanded as he watched her take off her coat and hat before she sat down on the bed.

"I knew you'd miss me, even if you don't think you do." She spread her legs in a suggestive pose and rested her hand on the inside of her thigh.

Doc squinted at her and shook his head. "Kate…" He began but she quickly stopped him in the same manner she always did.

"She dumped you didn't she?" She asked as she moved off the bed and gently closed the hotel room door before taking the bottle from his hand and drinking deeply. When he avoided her gaze that told Kate all she needed to know. "You don't have to explain it to me, Doc. I know you better than anyone. Better than _she_ ever will." She handed the bottle back to him and helped him steady his hand as he raised it to his mouth, watched him drink again before she advanced further.

"No one takes care of you like I do." She purred while brushing her breasts against his arm. Before he could halt her movements, her hot little hand pressed firmly against his crotch and rubbed. When he began to harden she let out a warm seductive groan of approval.

She took the bottle from him again, drank once more and then placed it on the table by the bed. "You know I will never leave you. Not for long anyway. I always come back to you. I'm not like the others." She leaned in to kiss his mouth, as her hand movements got stronger, steadier. "Let me take care of you now. Let me make you feel better like I always do."

Unexpectedly, he found himself exposed and at the mercy of her skilled hand. Once more he tried to break away before things got much further. "I told you not to come back." He slurred, and made one last effort to shield his cock from her but she only laughed and pushed his hands away as she got down on her knees.

"You always say that, Doc," she took him in her mouth drawing a deep moan from him, "and I always come back. Let me take care of you now and then we'll see how you feel afterwards."

It was mid-afternoon when another knock sounded on the hotel room door only it wasn't Doc who answered it this time. "What the fuck are _you_ doing here?" Wyatt growled as he glared back at Kate.

Kate arched her brow at his absurd question. "What do you think, Wyatt? I'm taking care of my man like I always do." She gave him a languid smile as she glided one arm up the doorframe and stretched her body to flaunt her curves. "And he just took care of me, so to speak."

Behind Wyatt, Virgil and Morgan cursed in unison. Wyatt pushed his head through the open door and looked around the room until he saw Doc's naked form passed out on the bed. "When did you get into town?" He asked as he eye-balled her lacy underwear.

"Early this morning, and just in time I might add. Your bitch of a cook has been making mincemeat of my man."

Wyatt's icy blue eyes narrowed as he shook his head. "Not this time Kate." He said with conviction. He pushed her out of his way and walked into the room as he looked anxiously about.

"Not this time, what?" She snapped.

Wyatt wheeled about and raised one finger in her direction. "You're not playing with his head or his life anymore. That's what."

She laughed at his arrogance and his stupidity. It was obvious to Kate that Wyatt had no idea just how well coupled she and Doc were. "Fat fucking chance you'll have anything to do or say about that."

Wyatt only flashed her a dark look before he went into motion. He grabbed what clothing she had left laying about and shoved it back into her carpetbag.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" Kate screeched.

"What I should have done a long time ago. You've taken advantage of him from the last time." Before she could object further he had her by the arm and was dragging her out the door as Virgil and Morgan snickered loudly.

"Let go of me you fucking law dog." She tried to dig in her heels but with no shoes on it was hard to catch hold.

Wyatt set his jaw and pulled harder. "That's right, I'm a fucking dog. And this dog is going to fuck you all the way out of town." He continued to rant as he pulled her down the hallway and then down the flight of stairs. "For once in Doc's miserable life he has a chance at something decent and good. Someone that will bring him some peace and happiness, and I'll be God damned if I'll stand by and watch you feed him liquor while you ruin it for him. No! Not this time Kate."

When they reached the crowded lobby she began to scream louder. "Help me. He's hurting me. Help." But no one present had the nerve to cross paths with Wyatt Earp when he was this angry.

Once outside Wyatt tossed her into the nearest puddle of mud. After she landed on her backside he tossed her carpetbag on top of her. "Take my advice Kate. Get on the first stage out of town, because if I see you hovering around I'll ride you out of town personally, and trust me, sweetheart, you won't like where I leave your ass." As he turned to march back into the hotel he could hear her screams of indignation and her parting remarks.

"Fuck you Earp. Fuck you and all your fucking kin." She yelled to his back.

Wyatt stopped at the hotel desk before walking back upstairs. Unconsciously, the clerk took one look at Wyatt's dark face and grim expression and stepped back away from the counter. Wyatt hardly seemed to notice. "Send lots of hot coffee, eggs and toast to Mr. Holliday's room, and be quick about." As he walked back up the stairs Wyatt set his jaw in preparation for all the hell he'd have to go through to get Doc sobered up.

"What happened?" Wyatt asked as he held the hot coffee for Doc to take. After he had returned from kicking Kate out, he and Virgil had stuck Doc's inebriated form into a cold bath tub. When Doc's language got too abusive at their treatment, they would hold his head under the water until he calmed down. After several passes, Doc was too exhausted to fight. Finally, Wyatt washed him like a child and then rinsed him off with nice hot water.

Now for the last thirty minutes they've been pumping him full of hot coffee and toast. Their efforts were begining to show progress; Doc was finally starting to make sense. Again he asked, "Doc, after you were attacked walking back to the hotel what happened? Did you and Alex have a fight?"

Doc tried to shake his head but the movement sent a lighting bolt of pain through his skull. "No." He groaned while holding one hand against the side of his head. "It wasn't a fight, but I think the attack frightened her. As soon as we got back to my room she broke off our affair. I tried to talk some sense into her but she refused to listen."

"Did she say why?"

"She said she almost got me killed three times. That she had a job to do and it was too dangerous for me. She wants me to leave town and she wants you and your families to go with me." He sighed loudly as tears sprang to his eyes. "I can't… I can't even think what to do without her."

"Damn it, Doc," Wyatt snapped. "What made you think fucking Kate would help."

Doc scoffed. "Too damn drunk to stop her. Somewhere in between her sucking my prick and getting me into bed I passed out. If we fucked, I don't remember it."

"Kate said you did." Morgan groused.

"Kate's a fucking liar." Doc retaliated.

Wyatt looked at his friend thoughtfully before replying. "Can you get dressed so we can continue our meeting with Alex? I'm hoping her friends will be included in our talk. As much as I respect Alex for her expertise, I still can't see a woman fighting this alone. I want to put some manpower together. Virgil, Morgan and I have been talking and we've come up with a plan. "

"Yes." He moaned. "Just as soon as I vomit I'll be right as the mail."

Wyatt muttered under his breath and helped Doc to the bathroom.

* * *

Once again, Angel heard that soft knocking on his door. _Let me guess_, he thought, _it must be prince charming._ He looked briefly at Alex as she sat on the sofa sipping her coffee. She chewed her lower lip as she looked anxiously at the door. When they heard the knocking again, she nodded toward Angel but before he rose to answer the door he asked her once more for clarification. "Are we agreed? We make no mention of the silver in that mine."

She nodded once. "If you think it's best, then yes, I agree."

"Finally." He sighed with relief. "It is for the best Alex. I know you don't feel like that now but believe me in the long run it's better this way." There was another round of knocking, only this time it was somewhat louder.

After she woke from her brief rest, Angel and Spike had fully informed her on what they found in the mine. There was a short but intense discussion on exactly what Doc Holliday and the Earps should know about what was found inside. Obviously, the lawmen needed to know about the numbers of vampires and the preparations Malachi had made for the coming battle, but Angel had put his foot down on informing them about the silver strike.

"That mine has never been found. If you tell them you'll only be changing the time line again."

She had tried her best to change his mind. "But… it would bring them financial security. Why is that such a bad thing?"

"It's not about good versus bad, Alex. It's about changing the timeline!"

As usual, Angel was right so Alex didn't argue with him after that. Instead she updated her two friends about her meeting at with the Earp's and her breakup with Doc. She didn't expect Angel to have much sympathy for her heartache but he surprised her by placing a brotherly arm around her shoulders in a sign of comfort. "It never would have worked, Alex. There are too many years between your world and his. Victorian men have a completely different attitude toward women then men from your time."

She sniffed loudly and blotted her wet eyes again. "You and Spike aren't so different."

"Angel and I adjusted with the time, love." Spike explained.

"Besides," Angel added in a gentle tone, "You can't remain here, and the cultural shock would be too traumatic for Holliday if you brought him back with you. He'd never be able to adjust."

She adverted her eyes but nodded in agreement. "Yes, I know. There's no place for him in my world."

This last statement seemed to conclude the matter, and neither man brought up her conflicting relationships after that. Alex figured the well of tears she continuously wiped away kept Angel and Spike from upsetting her anymore than she was. She felt a little better after a hot bath before settling on the sofa to read Malachi journal. Between the three of them they managed to unravel her late husband's twisted plan. But when all of Mal's secrets were revealed the painful truth she found there only caused her to cry some more.

Both Spike and Angel were equally as shocked by what Malachi had done. "There are no words to make this any less painful, Alex." Spike had told her while rolling her another cigarette. "Don't hurt yourself anymore by mauling over the details. Take your anger and pain and use them as weapons. It'll will make you stronger."

Alex barely heard what he said. Reading Malachi's journal seemed to renew the pain she felt after she woke up in the mission hospital and they had told her of her husband's death. A single statement continued to travel around and around in her head. "Whenever God closes a door, somewhere he opens a window." She mumbled to herself.

"Huh?" Spike muttered.

"One of the sister's at the mission reminded me of that saying. Haven't you ever heard it before?"

"Whenever things looked bleak for me, my mum used to tell me that tomorrow is a new day, free from any mistakes and ready for me to mold it to my liking." He shrugged slightly. "It used to cheer me up."

"My mother used to make me warm milk with a little cinnamon sprinkled on top." Angel added.

Despite her sad mood she had to laugh a little at Angel's confession. "It's hard to imagine you drinking warm milk."

"Why? What's so funny about me drinking milk?"

She quickly shook her head. "Nothing's wrong. It's just that…." She looked over at Spike for support but he made a little gesture to let her know she was on her own. "milk's so white and wholesome and you're so…"

"I'm so… what, unwholesome? Gee, Alex you don't have to rub it in…"

She was quick to interrupt. "That's not what I was thinking." Alex remarked with one finger raised in his direction. "You're tall, dark, handsome and extremely dangerous, milk doesn't fit your profile anymore, that's all." She didn't get to elaborate on her comment. The soft knocking on the hotel room door ended their quite morning council.

When Angel opened the door Wyatt's face was the first to greet him. "Angel." He nodded. "Hope we didn't come too early.

Angel shook his head as he glanced over Wyatt's shoulder toward the other men standing behind him. As he meet Doc's eyes his felt a moment of pity for the other man's sour expression. _Guess he hurts as much as Alex does._ "No, it's not too early. We've been talking for some time now. Come in." He held the door open to let them pass.

Spike greeted Wyatt, Virgil and Morgan with a smile but it was Doc's hand he shook. "Glad to see you don't frighten too easily." He told the gambler. "Here, have a seat." He ushered Doc toward the chair across from Alex. "I'll fetched some more chairs from the other room."

As soon as Doc entered the room Alex met his gaze. He didn't think it was possible for anyone to look as bad as he felt at the moment, but she did. The dark circles under her eyes told him that she had gotten very little sleep and the redness he saw in them spoke volumes about the anguished tears she had shed. He also noted a nervous fidgeting in her hands as she played with a handkerchief, something he had never seen her do before. It suddenly occurred to him that she was rapidly reaching her breaking point, which only made her frantic ranting last night more valid. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her until all the pain she felt passed away but he couldn't. _Remember,_ he reminded himself, _this is what she wanted. Keep your distance._ He nodded once at her and took his seat and turned his attention toward Angel.

"I thought you might want to see this." Wyatt held up a copy of the local paper in his hand. "The fight at the Oriental made front page." He tossed the paper down on the table between them.

Alex reached for the paper and quickly scanned the news. "They're contributing the fight to drunk cowboys." She told Angel and Spike. "No mention of anything out of the ordinary, just that some of the men had _weathered faces_."

"We got lucky." Spike offered to which Alex nodded in agreement.

"Coffee?" Angel offered. He motioned toward the tray on the table between them. Wyatt nodded once as he reached for an empty cup.

Angel cleared his throat and began. "Alex has been filling us in on what she discussed with you, so I guess any further explanation is meaningless. To bring you up to date, Spike and I went to the ranch last night and found the situation was worse then we imagined. She told you about the freshly cut barn doors and the evidence of Malachi's excavation inside the mountain."

Virgil nodded as he took the chair Spike offered to him and grumbled softly while he rubbing his hand over his face. "What we don't know is what he's doing inside that mountain."

"We do now." Angel admitted. "Spike and I went inside last night to scope things out."

"You did what!" Wyatt exclaimed. "How the hell…"

Angel cut him off with a wave of his hand. "The details of how we accomplished this is not as important as what we found on the inside. Malachi is surmounting an army. He's already equipped with weapons and supplies to carry this out. So far, he's managed to recruit over hundred vampires all of which are hidden in that mountain behind the ranch. We're going to have a war on our hands, probably very soon."

"Holy shit." Morgan exclaimed with an edge of alarm in his voice. His eyes bounced back and forth between Wyatt and Virgil in an effort to gage their reaction.

Virgil gestured to him to remain calm as he continued his line of questioning. "How's he paying for all this?" Virgil asked.

"Probably with the money his recruits bring in and what they can steal from their victims."

"What does he want, Angel? What is his prime goal?" Doc inquired before turning to accept the hot coffee Wyatt passed him.

Angel stared back at the gambler with astonishment. _His ability to decipher a situation is almost as quick as Wyatt's._ "Alex…" He nodded toward Alex letting her know she should be the one to answer that question.

With a mental effort Alex stilled her twisting hands. Her answer was directed at Virgil, however, and not Doc. Whenever she looked at Doc it only seemed to increase the unease she felt inside. She didn't want to cry in front of these men, knowing that if she did it would only be interpreted as a sign of weakness. Her femininity would have to be placed on hold if she was going to maintain her position of authority in this group. Otherwise, they would dismiss her as easily as they do their wives when it came to making difficult decisions. "He plans on taking over the town first, after that he'll expand outward to occupy the western half of the United States."

Morgan let out a low whistle and Virgil's eyes widened as he leaned back in his chair. He glanced at Doc and his brothers and knew they were all just as shocked as he was. "Pardon me for asking this Alex, but how did you come to this conclusion?"

"He wrote everything down. Every dark thought, every dark design."

"So you read his journal?" Wyatt asked for clarity.

"Not completely, but quite a bit of it. But it was enough Wyatt, to break my heart all over again." She felt her eyes get hot and quickly looked away before he noticed.

"I guess you didn't get much sleep." Wyatt asked in an effort to analyze her state of mind and mood.

She chuckled softly. "No." She rose from the sofa and walked to the windows to look out. From behind her Wyatt continued his questioning.

"Why would he do this?"

"Greed. Stupidity. Ambition. Who knows?" She replied without turning around. "He betrayed us, our whole unit, even me. The attack in the jungle was planned."

Her voice broke as she talked and Wyatt expected to see tears, but when she turned back around what he saw was cold naked anger. She stood completely still with her arms wrapped around her for either comfort or containment, he couldn't tell.

"I suspected this, but hoped it wasn't true. There were events leading up to the attack that I noticed, but I wasn't able to make a connection until afterwards. By then everyone was dead, except me."

"Did he try to kill you as well?"

"No. My fall down that embankment was an accident, and thank God I did, or I'd be in the same condition he is now."

"A vampire?" Doc asked.

"Yes. A vampire." She sighed loudly and walked back to the sofa to sit down.

"There was no way you could have known what would happen." Virgil told her in a firm voice. His strong-warm hand reached out and covered hers in a brief show of affection. "There ain't no sense in beating yourself up over it."

She nodded and swallowed hard. The fidget in her hands was back but she seemed unable to help herself. _Idle hands_, she thought and quickly picked up her coffee cup, winced when the cold coffee touched her lips, before placing the cup back in the saucer.

The men looked away uncomfortably at the obvious pain Alex was going through. Only Doc continued to focus directly on her. After a moment she realized he was staring and looked up to meet his gaze before quickly looking away.

But Doc wasn't that easily put off. He reached out for the coffee pot and poured the steaming brew into her cup. His thoughtfulness surprised her. She gave him a grateful smile as she picked up the cup again to sip the hot liquid.

"Better?" He quietly inquired.

Again she glanced at his face, and saw only warmth and affection there. She swallowed past the pain in her chest, nodded briefly and looked away. When Morgan interrupted she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Alex, I'm curious… in the few years you were married, didn't you ever look in his journal? I mean… Well, most women would. Shoot, I know my wife would have."

She smiled at him and shook her head. "I trusted my husband, Morgan. Besides, it's against the Guardian rules to snoop in another's journal. Not once during my years as a Guardian have I broken a rule. Not until I came here. In the short time I've been here I've broken so many I've lost count. My relationship with you, Doc, was the second biggest one. Healing both you and Virgil will be grounds for my dismissal or worse."

Doc frowned at her blatant summary of the time they spent together. "So now that you've broken a few rules you decide to walk the straight and narrow path of righteousness and all at my expense?"

Alex flashed him an irritated look. _Did I just think he was thoughtful?_ "Do you imagin you're the only one who hurts right now? If you do, you're wrong. But like I told you earlier, I have a job to do and you are getting dangerously in the way."

"That's a piss poor excuse Alex." He barked.

"Your impending death is no excuse. It's the damn truth."

He leaned in closer to sneer at her. "Nothing is going to happen to me, darlin. I fully intend to stick around to make sure you're good and guilt ridden if you ever attempt to leave me."

She continued to glare at him before jumping up from her seat and walking toward the window again. "I'm not going to discuss this now. There are bigger things happening here that I… no, that we need to be concerned about." She replied in an even tone.

Doc started to argue with her but Virgil quickly stopped him. "She's right Doc. Any personal feelings you two might have for one another need to be set aside. You can't keep a level head during a fight if you're emotionally wound up about something else, and we all need to keep a level head now. Either you stick to the game plan or leave. It's as simple as that." He paused as he waited for Doc to decide.

Reluctantly, Doc nodded as he looked away and down at his coffee cup. When Alex saw she was not going to be cornered into an argument she returned to her seat on the sofa.

Virgil watched as the two lovers curtailed their personal feelings and concentrated on the matter at hand. "How will he come at us?" He asked Angel.

"At night. I suspect he'll try to surround the town. There will be some loss of life but his main objective will be recruiting."

The word recruit made them pause. It wasn't just life and death they were fighting for but their humanity as well. "How do we stop him?" Wyatt asked.

Angel looked to Spike hoping he would be the one to initiate the Earps and Doc into their army. But Spike just shrugged and looked away. Angel could have spit with anger when he realized Spike was purposely letting him take the heat for Alex's impending anger. Reluctantly, he turned to Alex and waited for either her approval or flash of temper. She didn't take long to give him answer.

"No. Absolutely not." She declared firmly.

"Alex…" Angel started to plead but she abruptly moved off the sofa and walked to the center of the room.

She pointed one manicured nail in his direction and continued her rant. "No, Angel I don't want them involved. There has been too much loss of life already."

Angel's lips thinned with irritation. Finally he tossed up his hands and lobbed the ball back to Spike. "You talk some sense into her. She never listens to a damn thing I say anyway."

"You're not being reasonable, pet." Spike crooned. "Take a moment and think about who you're turning down."

"That's exactly what I am doing, Spike."

"Alex, you're not seeing things from their perspective." Spike continued. "These are not the type of men to sit around and let others do the grunt work. You're applying modern stereotypes in an age when women stayed home and sewed. You can't expect them to let you, a woman, call all the shots."

She looked seriously at him for a moment before passing her eyes over Angel and the other four men in the room. "Ah, bloody hell. Are you telling me I'm out numbered? Six male chauvinistic pigs against one woman?"

Spike shrugged again before giving her a smug smile. "Yeah, I say that's a pretty fair summary."

She looked hard at him. "And if they get killed, William, can you live with that?"

The use of his Christian name didn't have the impact she hoped. His chin rose a notch in defiance. "If I make it out of here alive, I'll remember with pride that I fought along side the Earp brothers and Doc Holliday and I hope they'd do the same." There were several grunts of approval issued as Alex looked on with an air of horror.

"You're all fucking nuts." She threw up her hands and went to pour herself a drink. Once the poison of her choice was chosen, she raised the full shot glass in his direction. "But let me remind you, that my brethren are here and they may have a very different opinion on how this fight should be handled. Until I speak to them I would prefer if all of you took defensive positions." She finished her speech by tossing back her drink.

After several more arguments it was decided that Virgil would issue an early curfew on the grounds of an aggressive form of smallpox that had been reported in a neighboring town. Wyatt would see that an announcement regarding the epidemic was published in the local newspaper, the Epitaph, while Morgan and Doc would post written announcements at the town businesses. They hoped the result would be fewer people on the streets especially at night and perhaps the rest would be motivated to stay closer to home.

Alex was pleased with the results. With less people roaming the streets, it would make it harder for Malachi's vampires to claim victims. Until her late husband made his move against the town, Angel and Spike would be on patrol during the evening hours in an attempt to hold the vampires at bay as long as they could. While the men did what they could Alex would go speak with the other Guardians and Father Martin.

Now that the most serious part of their meeting was over, Morgan approached Alex and asked to see her cell phone again. She smiled at his child like enthusiasm over a device she took for granted. "Sure, Morgan. I guess it can't hurt anything if you see it again." She retrieved the phone from her bag, turned it on and handed it to him.

"You explained the cell phone to them?" Angel asked in an irritated tone.

"Just vaguely. Besides, I didn't have much of a choice."

"It's wonderful!" Morgan announced. He picked up the small oval object and opened the lid the way Alex had shown him. "I can't believe you can talk to other people on this and hear music too. It's just wonderful!"

"So much for vague." Spike mocked with raised brows.

"Ah, Alex you didn't…" Angel growled as he geared up for another screaming fit.

"Yeah, I did." She confessed. "Don't get your panties in a twist, Angel. After watching me heal Virgil's arm and explaining time travel, the cell phone is commonplace."

"Which song did you play for them?" Spike asked with interest. "Some Ramones or Talking Heads? Oh, how about some Rolling Stones. Yeah, that's what they should hear. Play 'Sympathy for the Devil' the timing makes it almost poetic."

"It was a song about a guy asking a girl to knock three times on a ceiling if she wanted him. It was a good song." Morgan said.

Spike gaped at her with a look of repulsion. "You played Tony Orlando and Dawn? That's sick!"

Alex smiled at his comical expression. "I figured it was mild enough."

"You should have played them some Stones."

Angel did his best to ignore Spike as he continued to question Alex. "I guess you'll be giving Holliday your toothbrush and mouthwash next." He replied sarcastically.

Alex shushed him with a glance and helped Morgan play 'Knock Three Times on the Ceiling' again. As the cute happy tune floated through the air she leaned back in the sofa and tried to relax. "I always did like this song." She remarked to no one in particular.

Her moment of contentment was short lived as Doc continuously stared at her. So, she stared back and noticed for the first time how sick he looked. "You got loaded last night, didn't you?" She asked.

He gave her a slight grin. "I did indeed, and pay the price for my indolence today."

"You should stay off the juice, Doc."

He chuckled softly. "Thank you, Miss Montgomery. You're advice is duly noted."

"Come here." She requested in a soft tone while patting the empty cushion on the sofa. "Sit next to me."

His heart gave an eager jump at her request. Once he was seated next to her she immediately reached for his hand. Doc felt a subtle pulse of energy with her caress and then he realized what she meant to do. Quickly, he withdrew his hand. "No, Alex."

"Why? It won't hurt and will only take me a minute. You'll feel so much better when I'm done."

"And then you'll feel worse. You already look like death warmed over and I don't want to contribute to that. No. My hangover will pass."

She could only shake her head. "I don't understand you at all."

He smiled softly and reached up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Yes you do. You just don't want to come to terms with it."

Now that a plan was developed the Earps departed to begin their tasks, but Doc chose to stay behind and have a quiet word with Alex.

"Can't we talk, darlin?" He asked as he closed the door to the adjoining bedroom giving them a moment of privacy.

She kept her back toward him as she donned her patrolling gear. "This conversation will end badly for both of us, and you know it."

"I know of no such thing." He said softly while passing his fingers slowly through the depth of her hair. "What I do know is you want me as badly as I want you. Why shouldn't we both enjoy one another?"

Alex closed her eyes tightly against the tears that threatened to spill. His seductive manner of speech and soothing touch was pulling at the naked need she felt whenever he touched her, but the result he hoped to achieve was having the opposite effect. For just a moment she let herself enjoy his touch as she closed her eyes and tried to remember every aspect of this moment with him. His long, soft fingers sinking deeply into her hair to rub firmly against the nape of her neck. The smell of his aftershave and underneath that fragrance was the aroma of his masculine scent that would only get stronger as the sexual energy between became more stimulating. The timber of his voice enriched by his soft Southern accent that was uniquely Georgian. And of course the weight of his body as he pressed hard against her was telling her what words were insufficient to convey.

All those aspects of this man made up a sum of everything she loved about him, but they were still inadequate when compared to the original. There was so much more to John that she cherished. His insight and wisdom. His intelligence and his loyalty. His quick temper and dry wit. His ego and yet his sensitivity to others. His exquisite manners and his contrasting pompous attitude. His kindness and his barbaric spirit he kept tightly chained until he had cornered his enemy as he prepared make the kill. She would mourn all of him until she breathed no more, and that was why she chose the path she followed. He had just dipped his head to skim his soft full lips against her neck when she moved her final chest piece into position. The warmth of his mouth against her cold skin almost changed her mind. Almost.

"You have a cousin back home, do you not?"

"Hmmm" He murmured against her neck as he continued to nuzzle.

"It has been theorized by many historians that the two of you developed a close romantic attachment for one another."

"Huh?" He stuttered.

"I want you to promise me you'll return home to marry this girl." She replied without turning to face him.

He jerked stiffly against her before he took a step back from her body, grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and forced her to turn and face him. "Are you talking about Mattie?"

Alex tried to project a calm and serious composure. "Yes, your first cousin, Mattie Holliday. She became a nun some years after you went west."

"Don't be an idiot, Alex." He snapped somewhat confused by her abrupt line of questioning.

"Is it true?"

His lips thinned sharply as he considered how to reply. Finally, "Yes, it's true. When we were very young we played at being lovers, but it was never brought to fruition. Besides, her family objected to our union and Mattie always felt a need to serve God. In light of these obstacles, we went our separate ways."

"Has she yet taken her final vows?"

"No." He snapped. "Alex, what …"

"Why does she linger then?"

"I haven't the faintest fucking clue?" He yelled. "Perhaps she can't abide the idea of cutting her hair, or maybe she feels she doesn't look good in black. How the fuck should I know. What I do know is she refused my offer of marriage, surprisingly similar in the same manner you did."

He stepped back further, bumped up against the bed and sat down abruptly. The sudden motion seemed to take all the fuel out of his anger. When he continued his tone was considerably calmer. "Why are you bringing this up now?"

Alex took a deep breath and advanced. "Because I want you to go home and ask her again. She's waiting for you John. Waiting for you to give up your anger and return home to marry her."

She reached into her black bag and pulled out the silver music box. "You asked me to think about your proposal and I have. I can't accept your offer. I'm sorry." She presented the box and felt a moment of exquisite pain when he reached up to take it from her hand. "You're not sick anymore, and you have no more excuses to linger in the west."

His face became a monument of stone with only his eyes revealing his inner feelings. "Why are you asking me to do this?"

"Malachi was right when he said I'm not good enough to beat him. This will be my last mission, John. I don't want you grieving over an affair that would never have gone any further than what we had."

"Alex, you must know I'll protect you with the last breath in my body. I would never let him hurt you, nor would Wyatt or his brothers."

"You'll never be able to stop him." She said with finality. "I'm asking you again to pack your things and leave town."

"Never." He replied firmly.

She sighed loudly. "I can't force you. But I can keep my distance from you and that is what I intend to do. How you choose to spend your time is up to you."

"And if I chose to spend it with another woman other than Mattie? Perhaps with a redheaded whore for example? What have you to say about that?"

"Kate's back in town?" She asked with narrowed eyes.

Doc took aim and fired as he prepared to hurt her as much as she had hurt him. "Arrived at my room early this morning and perfectly willing to pick up where we left off. " He replied with a smirk.

She turned away from him and continued to check the supply of weapons in her bag. "If that is how you wish to spend your time then so be it." She kept her back turned until she heard the sound of her bedroom door open and then sharply close, only then did she let her tears fall.


	52. Just Love Me

**A/N: This chapter contains a mature theme. Enjoy!

* * *

****Chapter 51 – Just Love Me**

Father Martin knelt in the dirt and began to pull out a nest of weeds that had invaded the grave of his predecessor. The afternoon sun was warm and welcoming as it shown down on his aging bones, as was the solitary moment he grasped to shift through his thoughts. So much had happen in the last forty-eight hours that he had been unable to comprehend the events fully. Even his prayers were muddled and confused. Eight of his parishioners had lost their lives in the last two nights. The demons were getting stronger and he deeply feared the balance of power was shifting for the worse.

In the past, whenever his thoughts became dark and gloomy, he had always found solace and peace here in the church graveyard. After a few hours of pulling weeds and talking to the Lord he found renewed strength to continue his life's work. It was the need for strength that ushered him to the yard today, but that wasn't the only reason for his visit, Alex had yet to report in and her absence was becoming very distressing. The visitor he had received last night did very little to sooth his increasing nervousness.

He shook off his dark reflections and crawled to another stone and began to yank on another patch of weeds. _One patch at a time,_ he told himself. _That is how the Lord expects us to proceed and we should not stride for more progress than that._

Alex walked through the front doors of the church and found Javier polishing the silver cross that graced the altar. As soon as he saw her approaching he flew into a battering of Spanish as he ran toward her. Alex said a thankful prayer that her Spanish was as crisp as her French.

"Hello Javier." She paused as the boy expressed his glee at seeing her and then his concern at Father Martin's distress.

"Yes, I know I should have come sooner, and I apologize for the unnecessary concern I've put you through, but there were other developments that required my attention." Alex looked about the vacant church as she noticed the absence of the priest and her reinforcements. "Where is the good Father now?"

"Out in the graveyard, Senora." He replied in English this time. "He will be so glad to see you." He gestured toward the side door of the church and even gave her a slight nudge in that direction. "There is much to discuss."

"I quite agree, Javier. Thank you. You best continue with your chores now." She nodded at the half polished cross as she made her way to find the priest.

When a small feminine shadow crossed his line of vision, Father Martin breathed a sigh of relief. "It's not nice to make an old man worry, Alexis." He lightly scolded as he struggled to his feet and brushed off his coarse monk robe.

"I'm very sorry to have caused you concern, Padre. Things have been difficult and many people required my attention. I hope you are well?"

"I have no ailments that the occasional cup of wine cannot alleviate." He looked her over with a practiced eye. "I see you are recovered from your injuries, evidence that God's miracle continues to favor you. How are the other things? Did your friends give you much heartache?"

"Some. No more than I deserved." She admitted as she followed him into the church.

"And the dentist? Was he much opposed to your identity?"

"At first yes, but later he seemed to have a change of heart."

Father Martin noticed immediately how she refused to meet his eyes when she spoke of Doc. "Ah… But I see you have also had a change of heart. Am I correct?"

"I judge it to be the best course of action, Father. There is too much at stake. Which brings me to the object of my visit." She looked around the chapel quickly. "Where are my brethren? Have you housed them here at the church or elsewhere?"

He quickly shook his head. "I'm sorry, Alex, but only one Guardian has arrived."

"Only one!" She cried with alarm. "Oh, God, we're so screwed." She flopped down hard on a nearby pew. "Where is he now?"

He nodded toward the back bedroom were she had also found rest. "Sleeping. He came in just a few hours ago after a very busy night."

Alex didn't wait for further explanation before she stormed toward the bedroom. Alarmed by her abrupt change in temperament the priest hurried after her. "He says that the others will be coming soon. Alex wait. Perhaps you shouldn't wake him."

"I shouldn't do a lot of things, Father." She replied as she pushed open the bedroom door without an invitation.

The dark hair man within immediately opened his eyes when she entered. Within moments he went from a sleeping state to one of alertness as he stood to receive her, belying his training and experience in the field of battle. He bowed sharply before quickly glancing at the nervous priest. In a calm voice he addressed her in Italian.

He was tall, Alex noticed, at least six foot, four inches in height and possessed that dark sensual look that she had learned to associate with all Italian men, but this man also had the fine chiseled features of a model. He possessed full lips that were made for kissing, large dark eyes and sharp hollowed cheekbones, which gave him an air of beauty. _My God, tall dark and handsome,_ she thought. As she studied him further she saw she had definitely disturbed his rest. Underneath the quick intelligent look of his eyes were shadows that only the weary carried and from the heavy stubble of his beard it had been at least two days since he shaved.

Alex quickly gave him the appropriate reply before asking to see his identification. He nodded once and pushed up his sleeves. She glanced down at his forearms and the dark tattoos that graced them before thanking him. He chuckled warmly and asked her to show him her markings. As she pushed up her sleeves he began to shake his head back and forth. "Never in a millennium would I have believed a woman to occupy our order."

"You speak English."

"Yes." He replied. "I am Fabrizio Carducci, signora, at your service." He bowed again. "I believe we met last night in town."

"We did. Alexis Montgomery McCulloch." She extended her hand with the intention of shaking his only to find him gently grasping her hand and sensually kissing the tips of her fingers. _Italians,_ she thought, _a__lways looking for the next female conquest._

"Your companion fought most bravely. An admirable trait."

"Thank you Signore Carducci, for helping him."

He flashed her an even set of white teeth. "If we are to be fighting and possibly dying together, then I insist you call me Fabrizio."

She returned his smile. "And you can call me Alex."

"An excellent beginning. I am honored."

"Why did they send you alone, Fabrizio? The situation here warrants twenty or more Guardians. I thought…"

He interrupted her with a wave of his hand. "Signora, I know you must be anxious. The good Father has expressed to me the magnitude of the events here in town, but I am weary and insist we break bread together while discussing the situation."

"Of course. Forgive me Fabrizio. My manners seemed to have transgressed lately. Father, may we intrude on your hospitality?"

"I would be crushed if you didn't Alexis. Come this way." He gestured. "I have a nice stew simmering and fresh bread."

Over the meal that the priest provided, Alex summed up the trouble in Tombstone. When Fabrizio learned that the leader of the vampires was not only her husband but also a Guardian his face became grim. "This is bad." He mumbled as he shook his head.

"I know. I would have thought the order would have sent more than just one Guardian, Fabrizio. Where are the others?"

"They will be here soon. I was the closest one to this area and so arrived first. Until then we must do what we can. Your companion, has he friends that are equal to his bravery? Perhaps we can solicit their help?"

Alex broke off another piece of bread to mop up the gravy left behind on her plate. "I doubt very much we could deter them from becoming involved. Even as we speak they are making arrangements to keep most of the town's people in their homes and off the streets at night, by making a false announcement about a smallpox outbreak."

"Very clever." He agreed. "Who are these wonderful Americans?"

"Virgil, Wyatt and Morgan Earp. My companion is none other than Doc Holliday."

His eyes became wide with wonder as he recognized the famous names. "Three lawman and one desperado. This is an excellent beginning, indeed."

After speaking with Fabrizio for more than an hour she left the lone Guardian at the church so that he could continue resting until it was time for the evening patrol. During their discussion patrolling areas were assigned so that the best coverage of the town could be maintained until the other Guardians arrived. Alex kept Angel's and Spike's identity a secret but she did mention her companions infiltration of Malachi's camp and the their escape which resulted in several members of the vampire being slain. She felt certain that Malachi would want revenge for this intrusion, which left the Oriental still vulnerable for another attack. Fabrizio suggested she keep an eye on the center of town this evening while he would patrol the outer area. They would meet up again at the saloon before dawn.

Before she left the church she was once again shrived by Father Martin. "Did I mention your blessing the day before saved my life, Father?" She told him as he walked her to the church doors.

"No, you didn't Alex. What happened?"

"Malachi had taken Virgil's wife hostage. After an exchanged of words it was agreed he would take me instead. When he bit me he got a big surprise that he was not very happy about. Which is the main reason why he tossed me into the bar."

The priest only shook his head at her. "Alex you must be careful when gambling against the devil. He could have just as easily broken your neck."

"I know." She replied as she looked back at his worried face. "But I have a feeling killing me isn't what he wants. At least… not until all of his other options have run out."

"I pray it won't come to that." He whispered as he watched her walk back toward town.

Alex went directly to the Oriental to check on Wyatt's progress with posting the fake smallpox outbreak. She hoped to have another talk with the Earps regarding their participation in her mission. She wanted to be very clear what they should or should not do while fighting a vampire. The last thing she needed to weigh heavy on her heart would be the deaths of her new friends.

She had intended to enter the saloon through the front door but stopped short when she noticed Kate standing near one of the tables. She had her back turned toward the entrance but Alex didn't have any trouble recognizing the voluptuous redhead. At first she wondered why the whore was at the saloon and why Wyatt and Virgil hadn't tossed her out in the street, but when Kate stepped to her left Alex immediately understood. White-hot anger surged through her when she saw him sitting at the table fully engaged in a hand of cards with three other players. Her first response was to storm in there and start one hell of a catfight, but then she realized she didn't have the right to do that anymore. She was the one who had broken the affair, leaving Doc free to pursue other companionship. Still, he might have waited until after she returned home to continue his very public liaison with the whore. _It's only been a couple of hours. He certainly didn't waste any time, picking up were he left off,_ she thought.

Wyatt and Virgil finally came into view and from the look on their faces she could tell they were not too happy about Doc and Kate's reunion. From her view on the sidewalk she could clearly see hostility venting from each man as they stood with their backs to the bar and surveyed the room.

A loud burst of laughter rang out from the couple's table followed by Kate pressing her breasts against Doc's body while she refilled his glass. When Doc laughed again, Alex's hands began to itch. She could feel a bout of violence coming, yet she still needed to enter the saloon. She didn't have the time to cool her temper, and walking away was not an option. How then should she handle the present situation? She saw Wyatt lean toward his brother and make a comment. In reply Virgil frowned more, shook his head and turned away, and that's when he noticed Alex standing by the door. In several long strides he reached the front of the saloon, pushed open the door and stepped outside.

After glancing back toward Doc he turned to observe her emotional state. "Alex, I don't know what to say."

She breathed deeply in an attempt to calm her anger. "You don't have to say anything, Virg. I refuse to let this distract me. I'm to blame for what's happening in there. This entire scenario is precisely why I shouldn't have gotten involved with Doc in the first place."

"That's no reason for him to act like a damn ass." He growled. "Wyatt told Kate to leave town but after our meeting this morning Doc went to find her and asked her to stay. He's just doing this to piss you off and to prove a point. If you want I'll throw both of them out so you can have some peace while we talk."

She had to chuckle at his big brother style of concern. "You're really sweet, Virgil to worry about me. But you know what, I'm not going to let this get in the way of my job. I have more important things to be concern with than Doc's lousy attitude. I'm anxious to hear about the progress with our fake epidemic. Let's go talk."

With her head held high she pushed past the lawman and entered the saloon. When she came within view of Doc's table he turned to look up at her. She immediately noticed he had been drinking heavily. Obviously, he wasn't taking their breakup as well as she hoped, which was perplexing considering he didn't love her. If his heart wasn't broken like hers, then what was the inducement for his binge?

_What I do know is you want me as badly as I want you. Why shouldn't we both enjoy one another?_ Those were his words, not hers. But he had only spoken the truth. She did want him, and just as badly, perhaps more so. Was he sulking now because she refused him access to her body? _Damn him_, she thought. _Why does he have to make this so hard for me?_

Alex nodded her head in greeting. "Good afternoon, Mr. Holliday, Miss Elder." She even managed to smile sweetly at him as she continued across the room and toward the bar.

Doc's poker face never faltered, but Kate was not as composed as her drunken companion. When Alex turned away from them she clearly heard her exclaim, "What the hell is she doing here? You told me it was over between you. "

This remark was followed by, "Shut the fuck up, Kate." There was a sharp clipping sound as Doc reshuffled the cards and began to deal a new hand. "Ante up gentlemen. I feel remarkably lucky today."

His retort hit her dead center in the heart. Briefly, Alex closed her eyes against the pain that flared before she regained control.

For the first time since entering the saloon she thought to look around at the damage the fight had caused to Milt's business. The back bar was now fully restocked but the broken mirror and missing glass shelving looked like a gaping hole in the middle of the wall. She couldn't find a speck of broken glass on the floor, but she did notice the stain of her bloody trail on the wooden floorboards. There were a few less chairs now, but all the tables were intact with the exception of Doc's Faro table, which Milt had braced on its side in an effort to repair the cracked wood. The damage could have been much worse, but she still felt responsible and concerned over the cost to return Milt's establishment to its normal state.

The bartender seemed unconcerned and greeted her with a wide smile. "Miss Alex. I'm glad to see you up and about. How are you feeling?"

She returned his smile. "Hello, Milt. I'm fine, but I can see your saloon didn't fair so well. I promise to pay for the repairs."

He waved away her concern. "It's a minor thing compared to what could have happened. I'm glad no one was killed and that you and Virgil managed to somehow heal so quickly." He jerked his thumb toward Virgil who now stood to her right. "He won't tell me how this came about, and I've been made to promise not to pressure you about it, but if you can spare a moment, I would love to hear the story."

"Milt…" Virgil threatened.

"Don't get yourself all riled up, Virgil. That's all I'm gonna say."

"Thank you Milt. I appreciate your discretion." She replied before she turned toward Wyatt.

"Let's talk in the kitchen where we won't be disturbed. I'll make us a fresh pot of coffee."

Wyatt glanced briefly at Doc and Kate before he nodded and followed her to the back of the saloon. Once they were in the kitchen and the door was safely locked she breathed a sigh of relief. Her old familiar surroundings made her feel comforted and safe. The kitchen was unmarred by the fight and the only thing she could find out of place was the pink and white apron Allie had given her to entice Doc. Why it was now sitting on top of the counter was a mystery. She retrieved it and gently smoothed the cloth between her fingers.

"Doc found it." Wyatt offered.

"Did he now. Well, perhaps I should lend it to Kate. She may get more use out of it than I will." She quickly folded it and placed it on top of the dishtowels.

"Alex, don't take what Doc says and does to heart just now. He's hurt and angry." Wyatt explained in a calm steady voice.

"And horny too, obviously." She quickly added as she began to remove her cowhide coat and underlying vest that held most of her weapons. Dressing in men's clothing was controversial but necessary if she was going to be alert and ready for any signs of trouble. Now that the Earps and Doc knew about her secret identity she didn't see any reason to continue her façade as the lost wayward girl. Striped down to a flannel shirt and dungarees, Alex now concentrated on preparing a pot of coffee. "No, it's more than that." She smoothed her hair as she tried to smooth her nerves as well. "Wyatt, I'm torn. I can't take him back with me, and I think he understands that, but at the same time I won't stay here with him. It just isn't possible."

"Well, why not Alex? He loves you. I've no doubt of that."

She shook her head slowly. "No Wyatt, he doesn't. What he feels for me is need or lust or possession. Pick one. But it isn't love. I won't give myself to another man who only wants to use me as a centerpiece in his life. I need more than that."

He approached her cautiously and gently laid a hand on her shoulder. "Are you sure you're reading him correctly? I know Doc better than anyone. I've never, and I mean never, seen him so taken with anyone like he is with you. I know he loves you, Alex. Even if he hasn't told you so."

She looked at his soft blue eyes as his words sank in. Then she shook her head again. "No offense meant, Wyatt, but I think you're wrong this time. Let him stay with Kate if he won't listen to me and go back to Georgia like I've asked him to. At least he'll be with someone who will look out for him. And… and maybe she'll make him happy for a little while."

He frowned. "Kate's no damn good for him. The only thing that can come out of that relationship is grief. He's only using her to get back at you and she's using him for a meal ticket and her own sick amusement. Personally, I would rather you make him happy. Both of you are in a tough position and looking at both sides there's no easy fix. But I'll tell you the same thing I told him the night of the fight. Try to have faith that things will work out."

She swallowed the lump of emotion that seemed a constant companion lately and nodded her head. "I'll try, Wyatt."

Once the coffee had boiled she poured each of them a cup. "Well, let's get to the business at hand. I have good news and bad news. I went to see Father Martin and found only one Guardian has arrived."

"Just one!" Both Wyatt and Virgil exclaimed.

"But Alex you said…" Virgil continued.

She held up her hand in an attempt to calm them. "Yeah, I know what I said. It was explained to me that more Guardians are on the way. They just aren't here yet. We have to be patient, Virgil and try to hold out until help arrives."

"Well, what did this guy say?"

"He's only been here for a day but he agrees we have an extreme situation on hand. The other Guardians will be here soon. Until then we've decided to patrol separately. Fabrizio will stay on the outskirts of town and I'll patrol in the center. Angel and Spike will stay close to the Clanton ranch to cut off any vampires that try to come to town."

"Fabrizio? Is he Italian?" Wyatt asked.

"Born and bred in Italy, but he speaks very good English. You'll have no trouble recognizing this guy. He's very tall, with dark hair and eyes. Extremely good looking…"

"Are you planning on giving Doc some competition?" Virgil quickly asked as he blew softly across his hot cup of coffee.

"Heavens no. Virgil why would you even think of such a thing?"

"Because it's a damn good idea, that's why. Might wake that son of a bitch up."

She had to laugh at his coarse but caring attitude. "No more fooling around for me. It's all business from here on out. Tell me how you made out with our phantom epidemic."

"The Epitaph will run a late edition today with the article on the first page." Wyatt replied "Simply stating that the Mayor, John Clum, had been notified of a smallpox outbreak in Prescott and as a precaution he is advising all citizens to stay close to home and limit their trips into town over the next several weeks."

"Excellent. Did the Mayor question your reasons for wanting the article posted?"

"We told him we were investigating Mattie's murder and suspected a group of outlaws spotted in the area and thought it was a good idea for the citizens to stick close to home for a spell. He didn't question what we told him. He also printed a couple of hundred notices for us to post around town. Clum's no idiot, he's aware there's something strange happening in the town lately. I suspect he's glad Virgil, Morgan and I are looking into things. Don't worry, he won't make any trouble for us."

"Good. Where is Morgan now?"

"He's finishing putting up the posters. After about an hour Doc quit helping and took up with Kate instead, leaving Morgan with most of the work."

"Oh." She exclaimed quietly. _What the hell are you thinking Doc?_ Alex wondered.

Out in the main area of the saloon, Doc was wondering the same thing. Kate had only been in his company for the afternoon and already he was sick of her. Every time he looked at her all he could think was her hair was too dark and her laugh never seemed to be very sincere, nor was her smile. And God help him, her breath sank and she smelled. _Once you've slept on satin sheets it's hard to go back to homespun_, he thought as he watched her blatantly expose a goodly portion of her breasts to the other men at the table. During the last half hour his attention to Kate had greatly waned. Now that he knew Alex was in the next room he couldn't seem to muster the enthusiasm to enjoy her company and Kate had noticed the change in his attitude. He was in a bad mood and it showed.

When Alex had breeze in the saloon and greeted him like he was a common acquaintance he felt like exploding then and there. How dare she treat him with the same calm and courteous manner she showed to everyday customers. Didn't she care that he was keeping company with another woman? He looked down at the high royal flush he held in his hand and found he didn't care. "Fuck her." He mumbled under his breath.

"Did you say something Doc, darlin?"

When Kate sat on his lap the sour odor of her sweat made his stomach turn. At this precise moment he could have cried from wanting Alex and the fresh aroma of her clean skin. "I said, FUCK HER!" He yelled directly to her face and loud enough for Alex to have heard.

Annoyed by his drastic change of temperament, Kate's manicured brows formed a sharp crease above her nose as she prepared to issue a harsh retort. "Why you, son of a…"

He cut her off by tossing his hand of cards onto the table. "Gentlemen, I'm out." When he stood abruptly, Kate almost tumbled to the floor. There was a general outcry from the other three players and Kate, but he ignored them all as he grabbed his hat and coat. He gave one slight tip of his head toward his companions, "I bid you all a good afternoon," before turning to walk out the door.

Kate rushed to catch up, and once outside she freely vented her anger. She grabbed his arm to hold him still but he refused to look at her. "It's her, isn't it?"

When he didn't immediately answer she pressed him further. "Just what is so fucking special about this cook, Doc that has you biting the bit? What does she have that I don't? It can't be sexual experience, because you and I both know I service you better than most whores in the state."

When he finally turned to meet her gaze what she saw hidden in the depths of his eyes took her breath away. As usual he presented a neutral façade. For anyone who didn't know Doc Holliday personally they would see a man who looked like he was watching paint dry. But if you looked closer, experience and patience would reveal the hidden feelings buried deep within the layers of his soul. Kate was a practiced observer with five long years of familiarity. What she saw was raw naked longing combined with heartbreak and sorrow. Suddenly all the anger she felt toward him melted away. Her hand flew to her face as the shock of what she witnessed vibrated through her. "Dear God, I thought I'd never see that look on you. Not you of all people."

Doc grimaced with irritation. "What look? What the hell are you talking about, Kate?"

She chuckled softly. "You love this girl, don't you?" He abruptly turned his back on her but Kate was not easily put off. She rounded to face him and forced him to look at her by placing her hand under his chin. "John, why didn't you tell me how you felt?"

"What for?"

Again she smiled at his naïveté. Doc Holliday might be skilled at drinking, gambling and provoking the lower forms of humanity, but love and romance were talents that he had always shunned. Kate was experienced enough in the ways of the world to know that a man's lust was one way to capture and hold his attention, love, however, was not something she had ever sought, especially from Doc Holliday, but now that he had given his heart to this mysterious new cook, no manner of sexual persuasion would hold him spellbound. He was a man in love, and when compared to that a good toss in the hay paled considerably. "Because no woman, not even a whore, wants to play second best when her man's in love with someone else."

From the kitchen Alex clearly heard Doc curse. She didn't have to wonder who he was yelling at. She looked toward Wyatt for any suggestion he might have, but he only shrugged and looked away. Virgil had other ideas.

"I'll go ask him to leave, Alex. Maybe then we can have a few moments of peace." He started to rise but Alex stopped him.

"Never mind, Virgil." She replied with determination. "I'll take care of this."

Doc's playing partners were in an agitated state when Alex stepped out into the saloon. She looked around for Doc and Kate but found they had left. As she walked passed the player's table she heard one man declare, "Looky here." He fanned out five cards for his friend to see. "Doc must have been loused. He tossed a high royal and walked away from eight-hundred dollars."

That statement made her stomach queasy with unease. If Doc was walking away from a good poker hand and a large till, then his mental state must be more disturbed then she had previously realized. For the very first time she wondered if Doc was in love with her as Wyatt suggested. But if that is how he feels then why doesn't he say so?

She hurried passed the broken poker game as she made her way toward the front door and then outside. She found him two stores down standing on the sidewalk talking to Kate. Alex almost didn't come up to them, afraid of making things harder for Doc and for his friend, but as she started to turn back he saw her.

Reluctantly, Alex took a deep breath and approached them. She was a little surprised that Kate wasn't as hostile as she anticipated. The redhead even greeted her with a slight smile and a nod of her chin.

"Even I know when to stop fighting," she announced, "and this is one battle I can't win. Like it or not, he's yours now, honey. Take good care of him for me." At the end of her declaration she turned back to the man who had been her companion for the past five years. "Goodbye, Doc." She slipped her hand around his neck and kissed him briefly before she turned and walked off.

"Kate." Doc called out.

Alex watched them both in stunned silence. _He's mine?_ She thought, as a small stir of happiness bloomed deep in her heart. _He's mine! _But on the heels of that elevated feeling her world quickly crashed when Doc called out after Kate and then went after her. With butterflies swarming in her stomach Alex watched him reach into his jacket and pull out a hand full of bills and give them her. Kate nodded with gratitude and then walked away.

Alex found herself alone on the sidewalk with Doc. He stood silent and still as he watched her from several feet away. _He's waiting,_ she thought. _Waiting for me to decide_. She had two options. She could turn away from him and let this newly found bliss die on the dirty streets of Tombstone. Or, she could snatch it quickly, hold it as tightly as she could and hope for the best as Wyatt had suggested. Alex looked down at her two empty hands, smiled and walked toward Doc.

"Well, this is certainly one outcome I bet you didn't count on." She remarked with a dry tone. "How ironic, considering how eager you were to rub salt in my wounds."

His eyes narrowed at her impertinent attitude. "I wasn't the one who ended our affair, Alex. By my calculations that leaves me free to pursue other interests."

"So you disrespect me by blatantly taking up where you left off, and while patronizing the Oriental no less. You might have waited until after I went home, John." She couldn't suppress the tremble of pain and anger that peppered her tone.

Doc turned away from the wounded look on her face. "I was angry and hurt."

She issued a bitter laugh. "You have very good friends, Doc. Wyatt made the exact same statement in your defense not twenty minutes ago." She bit her lower lip and turned away. Wisely, she halted any further comments afraid that she would say something she would regret later. Several uncomfortable moments passed in silence. Doc continued to avoid her gaze while Alex took deep breaths and tried to calm her nerves.

"During our first night together, I told you that I would stay with you for as long as I could. Do you remember?" She began again as she held back from touching him.

He sighed loudly. "Yes, I remember."

"I can't offer you a future. Can you understand that? I can only offer you a short-term proposition. If you accept, it would have to be under the condition that once my mission is over, whether it ends with my death or Malachi's, our relationship can go no further than it already has. Emotionally, John, I can't handle fighting with you anymore."

"Fighting with you, Alex, has never been my intention." He stepped forward and took her hand in his, noting how cold her fingers felt.

She threaded her fingers through his eager for the warmth of his touch "I know that, but this emotional struggle between us is distracting. Being distracted can get you killed in my business."

His free hand came up to catch a stray lock of hair and held it as he tested the softness. "Alex, I don't want you to leave."

The sincerity in his eyes was more painful then if he had struck her in the face. Of course he didn't want her to leave, but wasn't there more he wanted to confess? _Say it, damn it. Say you love me and I'll stay._ But his admission ended and he only continued to stare at her as he waited for her to continue. Tears threatened to come when she realized her feelings would never be reciprocated and she swallowed hard to push past the lump of pain in her chest. "Can you give me a reason why I should stay?"

He flashed her an irritated look. "Am I not reason enough for you to _want_ to stay?"

The words she longed to scream at him were stuck within her chest. If they ever got out her pride would never withstand the blow. She abruptly turned away from him and tried to compose her emotions. By accident the first thing her eyes focused on was a young couple, walking arm in arm on the opposite side of the street. Slowly they strolled and held a quiet intimate conversation. The woman beamed up at the man with a joyful expression and he acknowledged her affection with a loving gaze. He enforced his feelings by occasionally patting her hand that was wrapped tightly around his arm. As Alex stared the man suddenly stopped their stroll and kissed her gently but passionately. Obviously, they were very fond of one another, but is it love? Does he tell her how he feels?

Doc looked on with confusion. He assumed she turned away to think about her feelings for him but as he followed her line of vision he saw what held her attention – Rob Turner and the new schoolteacher. As Doc watched he couldn't help but wonder if wedding bells would toll for the adoring couple. _For them maybe, but I don't think I'm going to be that lucky._

Finally, Alex turned back around and Doc noticed a fresh sheen of tears in her eyes. "Are there any other reasons?"

"I've offered myself and marriage. What more do you want, Alexis? What more is there?" What was she after? He hadn't a clue. "Damn you, Alex, I don't understand."

She nodded as if that obtuse statement enlightened her. "Do you accept my conditions or not?"

He blinked slowly as he stared at her before looking away to an imaginary location over her shoulder. Alex watched the muscles in his jaw work back and forth as he thought until he finally heaved a loud sigh, met her gaze and nodded his consent. "I accept, but with one stipulation. If the circumstances should change, would you reconsider your decision?"

His condition was vague at best, but it gave her hope that he still might realize his feelings. "Of course."

Virgil and Wyatt were still drinking coffee in her kitchen when she returned with Doc in tow. Wyatt took one look at the two of them together and nodded his approval. "Good. Now that you two have settled your differences, can we get back to the problem at hand?"

They talked for the next hour but nothing was resolved nor was a viable plan developed. Malachi was protected while inside his fortress of rock and there was no sure way to kill the vampires when they remained inside. If they blew up the mountain with dynamite, there was a strong chance the vampire would still survive the explosion. If they tried to enter the caverns, they would be trapped within and quickly outnumbered and outmatched. Until Malachi made his move on the town there was nothing they could do but wait for the Guardians to arrive.

Wyatt frowned heavily as he mauled over the situation. "Alex there's something I don't understand. What prompted Malachi to sabotage your mission in the jungle? After reading your journal, Doc explained that your husband had been actively accepting one mission after another without consulting you. But I find it odd that he didn't want to spend more time alone with you, being newly married and all. His reason couldn't have been the money. You said yourself that you were financially established."

He paused as Alex nodded her confirmation. "Pardon me for asking this but… did you have a fight? Was there some infidelity involved?" Wyatt saw a brief flash of anger on her face before she quickly recovered and shook her head no. Frustrated by the lack of clues he passed his hand through his hair and sighed. "I can't help but feel we're missing something. Didn't your husband's journal hold any other clues regarding his motives for betraying you like he did?"

She avoided his gaze while wiping up an imaginary spill on the table with a dishtowel. "I don't see how the details of his fiendish plan will help us, Wyatt. Why must we talk of such painful things?"

He leaned toward her to press the matter. "Because if we can understand what motivates him maybe we can use that against him. There has to be a reason for what Malachi did to you and the other members of your unit. No man puts something he values in the path of danger without a good reason. The whole idea stinks of desperation."

She unexpectedly jumped up from the table to stand by the sink, keeping her back to the group of men as she rinsed off a few dishes. Wyatt patiently watched her gather her thoughts. When Doc started to interrupt, Wyatt quickly silenced him. "Alex, we've only known each other for a few weeks, but in that short time I can tell you're a good, kind woman with very solid morals and values. Now I'm going to suppose you would marry a man with ideals equal to your own, so I can only assume Malachi didn't set out to become a vampire. What happened to him had to have been an accident. Please, tell us what happened, it's important that we know." He gently pushed.

"The spell book was there." She replied before turning around. "He had been looking for the spell book for almost a year. The book was the key he needed to travel back through time. That was why he accepted so many missions. He couldn't investigate these areas alone and he didn't want me to catch wind of what he was doing, so every time there was a mission in an area he wanted to explore he would make a request for our team to handle the situation." She returned to the table to sit down, but her hands were busy folding and unfolding the towel. Patiently, the men waited for her to finish the story.

"Finally after several failed attempts, he heard about a old vampire in the jungles of the Amazon. This vampire was rumored to have an extensive library of forbidden books and spells. But there was a price to pay for the one book Malachi wanted, and that price was the blood of five warriors. I was to be excluded from the deal. Mal would lead our team into a trap and when the attack came he would usher me to safety, but the ambush didn't go as plan when I moved to help another member of my unit in the fight." She laughed softly. "It's funny, but now that I look back on that night, I thought it was strange that he kept telling me to fall back even though I was in the position to help my comrades. The vampires that were attacking us were outraged when I slew several of their members, so they grabbed Malachi intending to get revenge."

"And you got lucky when you fell down that embankment, indirectly saving your life." Doc continued.

"Yes," she replied in a sarcastic tone, "I got lucky."

"That night he attacked us at the Oriental he said _'if only you had listened'_. That's why he blames you for being turned."

Alex could only manage to nod yes, being too choked with emotion to answer him directly. Doc didn't have to be a genius to understand what she was feeling right now. He leaned in and took her hand in his. "It's not your fault."

She issued a short sarcastic laugh before removing her hand from his. "Of course it's my fault, Doc. He was my husband. I should have understood him. I should have sensed what he was going through, but I didn't. I was as clueless as a perfect stranger. Here we were, man and wife, sleeping in the same bed night after night, eating at the same table, sharing a living space and I didn't know him any better than the accountant who did our taxes."

The emotions she was reliving surrounded her making it very hard to maintain control. She suddenly sprang to her feet and walked to the back door, keeping her back turned to the men as she looked outside. "What a perfect fool I was. I so totally engrossed in my own drama I wasn't able to see how my husband was struggling with his personal demons. And now that I know the truth, what good does it do me? I'm left with the guilt of my own failure and to top it off, I have to end this horrid existence that has befallen him." She turned around to face them. "How the hell am I suppose to kill him knowing what I know?"

Wyatt was the first to answer, but the grim expression on his face gave her little comfort. "You'll find a way, Alex, because it's the right thing to do."

She scowled at his statement. "Yes, I suppose I will, although the thought brings me no comfort." She sat back down at the table and turned her attention to Doc. "I know all about doing the right thing. Weren't we talking about this very concept last night?"

Doc grunted with irritation and looked away.

Wyatt leaned in to continue his line of questioning. "All right, so he trades his unit for a spell book and travels back through time, but what for? What is in Tombstone in our era that was that damn important?"

Alex avoided his gaze while sipping her coffee. Finally after several more minutes of uninterrupted silence, Wyatt pushed the issue. "Alex, answer me. What was he after?"

She looked him straight in the face and gave him the only answer she could. "I'm sorry Wyatt, but that information is classified."

It's not pleasant when three men yell at you all at once. Alex tried to maintain a calm exterior but when Wyatt suddenly pounded on the table and then jumped up from his chair, she buckled under the pressure.

"Damn you, Alex, uncover your ears and look at me." Doc snapped. He quickly reached for her wrists to yank her hands away from her head. "Explain yourself!"

"If I told you the complete story it would only alter the timeline again. I'm sorry but I can't … I won't corrupt this era anymore than it is."

Doc's lips thinned into a tight line as he leaned back into the chair. His eyes flared angrily as he glanced at Wyatt and Virgil for their reaction. Wyatt tossed up his hands with frustration and proceeded to look out the backdoor. Virgil only rubbed his mustache and grumbled under his breath. Doc didn't hear all of what Virgil said but he was pretty sure most of the words were very colorful and not fit to repeat in mix company.

Finally after taking several deep breaths to calm down, Wyatt turned to confront Alex again. "Are you telling me that after everything that has happened and all that you've revealed to us that you have now decided to withhold information?"

"Its not entirely up to me, Wyatt. I've been… pressured to reserve my knowledge so as to not alter the future anymore than I have. I'm sorry."

"Angel?" Doc growled and then uttered a string of curses when Alex silently nodded her head.

It was several minutes later before the tension in the room subsided. Wyatt sighed loudly after he returned to the table and proceeded to continue their conversation. "All right, I can understand the tight spot you're in Alex. It's got to be hard on you trying to follow your heart and at the same time abide by the rules of your organization. But doesn't Malachi's plans affect us?"

"No, not directly. What drove my husband to look for a way to travel back through time has nothing to do with what the demon is doing to Tombstone. My main objective is to protect the innocent citizens and defend this town. Frankly, I don't care about what Malachi was after."

"To protect and defend." Doc echoed. "It has an heroic ring to it. I'm quite inspired to lend a hand."

"Did this Fabrizio character have any idea when the others would arrive?" Virgil asked as he sipped his hot coffee.

"He said it should be soon. In a day or two." She held back from telling them that Fabrizio also wanted to know if the Earps would be able to recruit some additional men from town but she had a funny that her new friends would be a part of the coming battle no matter how she felt. It was this realization that prompted Alex to explain to them in great detail how to kill a vampire. Doc had already perfected his technique, but Alex still warned him not to get too cocky. "If they get their hands on you its over. They're stronger then we are and extremely fast. Keep your distance as much as you can."

"Perhaps you would care to explain to me why you willing walked into the arms of that demon, Alex and didn't bother to put up a fight." Doc asked while pouring himself a fresh cup of coffee. The liquor he consumed earlier was wearing off and the first pulses of a hangover were starting to make their presence known. He would need all the coffee he could get if he was going to fight the ill affects. "I've been trying to work that out but haven't had any luck. The only conclusion I have come to was your eagerness to scare me half to death. Was it because you missed your husband, darlin?"

She thought about his observation. "I do miss my husband, Doc. I'm hurt and angry over the way our marriage played out. I'm trying hard to understand why he made me a widow instead of a wife and mother, but trust me when I tell you I didn't just walk into his arms unarmed. I went to see Father Martin earlier and had been shrived. He also did a blessing, hence my blood was pure and I gambled on Malachi wanting to take me alive."

"You'd make a fine opponent, Alex if ever we two should play cards. But don't you ever do anything like that again, or I'll kill you myself. He could have just as easily snapped your neck."

She chuckled softly and laid a calming hand over his arm. "Father Martin made the same observation earlier today."

"He seems like a wise and sane man." He mumbled while reaching into his pocket for his tobacco and papers and proceeded to roll a smoke.

"What's next on your agenda for the day, Alex." Virgil asked.

"I'm going to head back to the hotel, put on my customary black attire and get ready to patrol. The rest of the evening I'll spend out on the streets."

"And you won't be alone either. I intend on patrolling with you." Doc struck a match and pulled heavily on his smoke.

"No." She replied with conviction.

He met her stare with a straight face as he blew smoke in the air above her head. "Wyatt, Virgil, I wonder if you wouldn't mind giving Alex and I a moment alone."

Both men chuckled softly and quickly left the room. Alex remained seated and prepared for battle. "This conversation is getting very tiresome."

"That's precisely why we're not going to have it again. I'm not asking you Alexis, I'm telling you. You are not patrolling alone anymore. One of us will be with you at all times."

"Us? Do you mean, Wyatt and Virgil?"

"And Morgan too. If you want to have a fit about our decision, then by all means go ahead." He smirked at her as he brought the cigarette to his lips, inhaled deeply and blew smoke at her again. "I love a good show."

She could only stare at him. Words seemed to have escaped her. "You…grrrh." She growled. Exasperated at his caveman like attitude, she grabbed the empty coffee cups, pushed back her chair and went to the sink. Her intent was to busy her hands by washing the cups and coffee pot but John quickly came from behind her and stopped her.

He pressed hard against her back while wrapping his arms tight around her body. "I'm inclined to remember a time when I tried to seduce you in this kitchen. Do you remember, Alexis?"

Alex not only remembered the incident, but also found that a certain part of anatomy was eager for him to do it again. Her breath hitched in her throat as the heat from his body began to melt her irritation. "John, maybe we shouldn't."

"Why not." He cooed. "It's the only thing we do together that doesn't cause an argument." His lips sought the perfect spot on her neck by slowly, carefully, trailing his wet tongue across her skin. When he found the right location he sucked firmly on her hot skin while he pressed his groin hard against her ass.

Before she could help herself, a soft cry escaped her. If she was going to stop him, she needed to do it now before things got too carried away. She started to turn around in an attempt to break his hold but John had anticipated her maneuver and effectively neutralized her escape by sliding his free hand down the front of her body to cup her between the legs. He smiled when Alex cried out again.

"Why is it that we join together so well? Have you ever thought about it?" He asked again as he began to rock against her.

"Yes." She gasped.

"I've thought about it too."

He began to time the rocking sensation of his hips with the rhythm of his hand and the combination of the two sensations was slowly melting her resistance. She had never been held like this before, captivated and surrounded by two sources of sensation, and she found she lacked the strength and drive to break free.

"Let us go upstairs and explore this mystery together." He whispered. When she didn't immediately answer he added, "Please Alex, be with me. I've missed you so."

She chuckled warmly at his romantic plea. "How could a girl say no to such a sweet invitation."

He kissed her once and quickly locked the kitchen door before ushering her up the stairs. Then he turned to lock her bedroom door as well. Alex heard him mumble a challenge for Virgil to try and disturb them now before returning to his previous seduction.

His approach was more eager than any she had previously experienced. Before she knew what was happening, he had lifted her off her feet and pinned her to wall. Impatient to touch her he pulled violently against the bottom of her shirt until he was able to slip his hand underneath to cup her breast. When his palm made contact with her warm skin he groaned loudly before taking her mouth with a potent kiss.

She responded by rapping her leg around his thigh, holding him tight against her aching flesh while her hands worked at a furious pace to unfasten his gun holster and unbutton his vest and shirt. The silk material seemed to have a mind of it's own, each button, each seam she tugged refused to yield. The task was compounded by Doc working to remove her clothing at the same time.

A few more tugs and he had managed to open her blouse completely. Long, smooth, fingers slipped under the camisole she wore so that he could circle her waist, tickling the soft skin he found there with the tips of his nails. She ceased her struggle with his clothing and glanced up to find him staring back at her. For just a moment time was still as they looked at one another. There were things she wanted to tell him, things he needed to understand, but the heartache she held deep inside flared brightly making it hard to find the right words. Her fingers traced the bones in his face as she tried to think of what to say. "John…" She began but he stopped her with a shake of his head.

"Don't, Alex… don't say anything. Just love me." Again he leaned in to kiss her, slowly, deeply, taking his time to enjoy the taste and feel of her mouth. His hands skimmed up her stomach, lifting her underwear high over her breasts exposing them to the cool air of the unheated room. John dipped his head and blew his warm breath across the tips making her peaked nipples more pronounced.

The contact was almost more than she could bear. Alex let her head fall back against the wall as she bit her lower lip to stifle the cry that was slowly building inside her. What little control she held over her emotions was slipping from her grasp. Once again she felt his breath only this time her response was involuntary.

He lifted her arms high over her head arching her breasts upward. Just the tip of his tongue glided ever so lightly over one nipple, making her cry out right before he claimed her, sucking gently at first before pulling her flesh hard into his mouth.

"Oh my God." She arched her back and pushed her breast hard against him. Doc bit her soundly before soothing the sting with the velvet tip of his tongue drawing another cry from her. Hot tears filled the back of her eyes from the pleasure he was pulling from her body, leaving her to wonder how much more she could take before she turned into a mass of quivering flesh. But he was showing her no mercy today and his seduction was far from finished. When her other breast received the same attention, Alex felt legs let go, too weak from passion to support her weight any longer.

Doc held her upright by rocking his hips against the wet flesh between her legs as he released her arms and slid his hands across the smooth skin on her back to hug her firmly against his body. A groan escaped him as he held her and then he suddenly picked her up and placed her on the bed.

Never in her three years of marriage had Malachi affected like this. She felt like a part of her soul was no long under her control; it was now under Doc's dominion. Was it the fighting that made the sex so damn hot, or was it the man? Not that she cared to unravel this mystery at the moment. No, at this precise place in time nothing else mattered.

From the bar of the Oriental, Wyatt and Virgil talked quietly over a couple of beers as they waited for Doc and Alex.

"You didn't say whether you got an answer to your wire." Virgil asked.

Wyatt looked back at his brother with an expression of determination. "Yeah. Their coming."

"How long till they get here?"

"Two days."

"Wish it was sooner."

"Yeah, Virg, me too." He took a sip of his beer as he surveyed the room. Milt had been busy repairing the damaged the fight had caused, but the place still needed work. Not that there was any hurry. Since the fight business had been piss-poor. He glanced at the faro table as it sat broken with the top half removed and tilted on its side. Milt was in the process of repairing the split and adding extra support to the bottom with new boards. "Alex is not going be pleased when Luke and the others show up."

Virgil snorted loudly before replying, "Doc may have to worry about her feelings. I don't. There's no denying we need the extra manpower. Wiring to Dodge for help was the smart thing to do." Virgil looked toward the kitchen door with irritation before pulling his pocket watch free. "It's been fifteen minutes." He announced as he snapped the watch closed. "How long does it take to tell a woman what she is or isn't going to do."

A floorboard suddenly squeaked overhead. Wyatt glanced up at the ceiling and smiled. "I don't think they're actually talking at the moment." There was a thump as if something solid and heavy was dropped to the floor. "There goes Doc's gun." Wyatt surmised.

"Jesus Christ." Virgil mumbled as his hand smoothed his moustache in an attempt to hide his smile. "Doc's going to be inconsolable if she returns to her home, Wyatt. You know that don't you?"

"Yeah." Wyatt replied thoughtfully. "But I'm not going to start to worry just yet, Virg. I still have hope that things will work out and you should too."

"Allie's been praying hard everyday. If Alex leaves I'm going to have my hands full calming my wife down. You're going to have to handle Doc on your own."

"I'll get Morgan to pitch in." He swallowed another sip of his drink. "Where is Morgan anyway? He should have been here by now."

* * *

When they finally caught their breath, Doc took her in his arms as he stretched out on the bed. "Alex, do you suppose other couples have as much fun as we do?"

She lay with her head on his shoulder and was slowly caressing his naked chest. "I would hope so." She replied languidly. Right now she would like nothing more than to drift off to sleep and have a long peaceful nap with the man she loved. _Yeah, right. Like that's gonna happen._ She blinked back her fatigue and made a conscious effort to stay awake. "Should we ask Wyatt how he fares with Josie?"

He snickered softly. "I'd be afraid he would be inclined to answer and in great detail I don't care to hear."

Alex grinned against his shoulder. "Why not? You might pick up a few pointers."

He snorted with irritation. "Are you implying I need them?"

"I will speak with Josie later and let you know."

"Very funny." He replied before quickly kissing her to stop any further comments she might have. "I suppose we should go downstairs now."

"Yes, I suppose." She echoed as she straddled his hips and began to kiss him harder.

Doc slid his hands down her back and cupped her bare ass. "Perhaps, I am too hasty." He murmured in between her kisses. Alex's soft, husky laughter sounding in his ear was all the encouragement he needed. "Yes. I believe the situation calls for some long, hard reassessment."

Forty-five minutes later, Vigil snapped opened his pocket watch again as he glared at the two lovers walking into the saloon. He took in Alex's glowing expression, her disheveled hair, and the unfastened buttons on Doc's shirt and vest. "That must have been one hell of a conversation." He announced. "I thought time was of the essence. A dire situation. A matter of life or death."

"Is that three questions or one?" Alex inquired with a grin.

"Three." He growled.

Alex held up her hand and extended her index finger as she prepared to answer his allegations. "One: we made excellent use of our time. Two: Doc explained to me how dire the situation was and I agreed with him." She heard Doc chuckle warmly and place an affectionate hand against her back as she ticked of her examples one by one. "Three: the French call the orgasm _la petite mort, _or in English _the little death_."

Virgil rolled his eyes at her. "Alex, this is not the time to joke around." He explained as if she had no idea what was at stake.

She had prepared a smart comeback but Doc interrupted. "Here comes Morgan." He nodded toward the front door.

They all turned to seek out Morgan. He was still crossing the street and had noticed them watching and raised his hand in a friendly wave. A horse and carriage crossed in front of him turning up a cloud of dust. Morgan cursed loudly at the driver and ripped off his hat to knock the dust loose from the rim. The sun shone brightly still and Alex noticed his hair was a lighter shade of brown then his two brothers. Virgil, being the oldest, was already showing wisps of gray and Wyatt's had darkened to a mature brown, but Morgan's hair was almost blonde. Not as blonde as Doc's or her own hair coloring but close.

"He must have had golden blonde hair as a child." She remarked not realizing she had voiced her thoughts out loud.

She heard Wyatt laugh softly. "White blond. Ma used to call him her little cotton head."

Morgan had almost reached the wooden sidewalk in front of the saloon. "He'll have blonde haired chil…" She never finished her sentence. On the opposite side of the street a man emerged from the shadow of the building wearing a large brimmed hat and poncho that hung down to his knees. In his hands was a rifle and as he raised the weapon to his shoulder his hands and face burst into flames.

Not one of them got a chance to shout a warning. In a second's time the rifle fired. Morgan was pitched forward from the force of the bullet as it entered his back and the man who had wielded the rifle exploded into a human fireball, laughed loudly once before turning into a pile of ash.


	53. Reaction

**Chapter 52 – Reaction **

_Life as we know it, can change in the blink of an eye. Sometimes for good, but most of the time it changes for the worse. The phone rings, and you find your father has died. You get your paycheck and in it a pink slip alters your life with just a few well-chosen words. Your lover leaves you for another. Or, you find that your pregnant sister has been snatched away from the world of light and transformed into a thing of darkness just because some vampire thought it would be fun. That's what happened to me. After my sister was turned my life was never the same._

_Alex would have found it ironic to learn that I had, at one time, looked forward to being a teacher. History has always been a passion for me and I wanted to share that zeal with young impressionable minds. Despite my poor social upbringing, I was a good student. I even had an academic scholarship to Penn State University. But when my sister, Beth, was taken from us, well let's just say I reacted rather than acted. My mother fell apart. Her continuous drinking only made her more despondent. My father found solace in his work, and only came home to eat and sleep, and I… I was eaten up with anger and rage. At the time it seemed like a good idea to join the Guardians. My raging emotions would be directed with purpose, and I would find an outlet for all the pain I felt inside. Forget college, I wanted to kill the demons that had hurt my family. Back then I thought I was thinking clearly, but now I know how far from clear my mind really was._

_When you are faced with difficult situations or decisions you don't always act in a rational manner. Your mind is shocked, stunned, by the turn of events. You think to yourself, how could this happen to me? You feel the sadness, the anger, and the guilt. Most react to a negative scenario with their heart rather than their head. My lovely wife is no different than anyone else. Actually, I was counting on her reacting from her gut. That is why I was so sure my plan would work._

_When I sent my emissary to do my bidding I really didn't care who he shot. Holliday, of course, would have been my first pick, but what the hell, any of the Earps would do. What luck that Morgan just so happened to walk onto my stage at the perfect moment. One could almost say it was meant to be._

* * *

Afterwards, when Doc had time to think, he realized that Morgan getting shot was another piece of history that Alex had been well aware of and consequently tried to hide. Just like Mattie's death, and Virgil's injured arm, history had managed to find a way for the events to take place despite the drastic changes Alex had made to the timeline. Fate, it seemed, was remarkably head strong and certain to have its way. One could only wonder how much more bleak the situation was bound to become.

After the initial gunshots Doc had ordered Alex to stay inside the saloon and hidden behind the bar for protection. There was no way they could know how many assailants there were. Keeping low to the ground, Wyatt and Virgil rushed out the front door of the saloon to rescue their brother, while he covered them with his colt and kept a lookout for additional gunplay. Thankfully there was none, but the damage was done and now Morgan's life hung in the balance.

"Easy. Easy now. Let's put him on the billiard table." Wyatt directed. He was holding Morgan's legs. Doc and Virgil each gripped him under the arms. With a swipe of his hand, Doc knocked the pool balls out of his way as they placed the wounded man on the green-felt top. Morgan let loose another scream of pain followed by a curse word Doc had never heard before.

Wyatt didn't waste any time and was already busy ripping open the front of Morgan's shirt. "No exit wound. Damn it, the slug must be lounged inside."

Morgan withered in pain on the table as he struggled to hold back any further cries of pain. "Somebody get the fucking Doctor." Virgil called out as he tried to hold his brother still.

Milt tore out the front door as fast as his legs could carry him. Spectators began to leak through the open doorway, and the few customers the Oriental had at the moment hovered dangerously close to the billiard table. Doc turned wildly, pulled his gun and ordered them out. He slammed the doors closed and rushed back to Wyatt's side.

"Hang on Morgan, the doctor's coming." Wyatt strained to keep his voice as calm as possible while helping Virgil to contain their brother's thrashing. He had seen plenty of gunshot victims during his years working for Wells Fargo and damn few of them had a happy ending.

Morgan made a gurgling noise. His eyes went wild and rolled over white as blood spewed from his lips. Thinking quickly, Alex turned his head to the side to let the blood out of his airway. Gently, she wiped his face clean of blood with the sleeve of her shirt before reaching to hold his hand.

"Morgan? Morgan can you hear me." Wyatt called while holding his other hand.

"Wyatt…" He coughed. "Who was it?"

"It was one of them, Morg." Wyatt said softly. "He's gone now. No need to worry about him."

"You best get Louisa, Wyatt. I ain't gonna last, I can feel it."

Wyatt's face folded into a river of worry but he kept his voice level and calm. "Hush, now Morg. You're going to be fine. Dr. Goodfellow will be able to fix you up."

Morgan issued a short sarcastic laugh and shook his head. "They got me good, brother. Don't let'em get you or Virgil."

Suddenly Virgil's commanding voice spoke up from beyond Wyatt's shoulder. "Stay calm Morgan. You're not shot that bad." He leaned in and brushed his brother's hair off his face. "You always were a big baby whenever you got hurt." He whispered.

_Is this how it all happened?_ Alex wondered. Was she witnessing first hand Morgan Earp's death scene? Realistically this shouldn't be happening. The gunfight had not taken place. The Cowboy's were finished and no one was left alive to hold a grudge, or look for revenge. But Malachi always was a stickler for detail, and apparently he was trying very hard to keep history right on track. If she remembered correctly, it took almost forty-five minutes for Morgan to die. Mindlessly she looked down at her wrist to check the time on a watch she no longer wore. When she felt Morgan's hand slip slowly from hers, she looked down and saw a pool of blood come oozing out from under his back. She quickly looked at Wyatt and knew immediately that he too had noticed the extensive blood loss. _Why am I standing her like a useless idiot?_ She grabbed Morgan's hand again, pressing it tight between her palms and tried to concentrate on the blood. _Stop the bleeding. Stop the bleeding._

_But there's so much of it._ The blood was everywhere, in his chest cavity, in his lungs, in his stomach. As hard as she tried she couldn't get the bleeding to stop. "Sweet Jesus, help me." She prayed out loud.

"Alex?" Wyatt asked anxiously as he waited for her to perform a miracle.

"I can't get it to stop! It won't stop!" Tears began to stream down her face now and she couldn't control the tremble in her hands. "Oh, God!" She could feel Doc hovering protectively behind her. At this moment she wanted desperately to reach for his comforting hand but she dared not relinquish the hold she held with Morgan. As weak as the link was she feared she was the only thing stopping his life force from slipping away.

Morgan coughed again and blood sprayed everywhere. "Alex, get away." He ordered. "Don't touch me." He tried to sit up, which only caused him more pain. "Wyatt, make her stop." Wyatt and Virgil quickly told him to hush.

"Be still, Morgan." Alex reached across his chest and held him down. When she placed one hand on his chest she felt the connection get stronger. _I need to hold him._ She slipped her arm under his back and tried to ignore the warm, wet feeling of his blood coating her arm and shirt. She shifted his weight and heard him yell when the movement caused him pain. Morgan reached up with one hand and tried one last time to push her away but found he no longer had the strength to do so.

Bracing the weight of his upper body in her arms she cradled him against her chest and reached out with her mind again. His heart was dangerously slow and erratic. _Oh God, he's going to die right here in my arms._ She had never worked on anyone who was in the thrones of death as Morgan was. He's injuries were so severe she couldn't mend his wounds fast enough. _Blood and heart. Blood and heart._ She repeated over and over in her head and finally she felt the balance shift.

The saloon faded around her and the world spun away leaving her floating in a warm current of air. Ahead was a golden light so she moved toward it, passing people as she went. Where was Morgan? She looked about for him and suddenly found him walking several yards ahead. When she called his name he stopped and turned back toward her, looked at her once and turned away to continue his walk. She called to him again and suddenly found herself standing behind him. Quickly she reached out and grabbed the back of his shirt and began to pull but Morgan wouldn't budge.

"Morgan, you're too heavy."

He turned to look at her and calmly replied. "I'm not really, if you stop and think about it. It's all right Alex. You can let go now."

Should she? She wasn't sure if she should let go and leave him in this place.

He pointed. "Look, there are my grandparents."

She looked in the direction he showed her and saw a man and woman waving. "They're waiting for you." She remarked. _Now, how the hell did I know that?_

"There are some here that know you as well, Alex." He replied.

It was true. She saw her old school teacher who had died just a few months after she graduated. _Died? Good Lord._ She looked around wildly and came face to face with her parents. "Mom? Daddy? How can this be happening?" She asked them and tried to bridge the gap between them but found she was still unable to make physical contact. _Why can't I touch them?_

"Anything is possible, Lexi." He told her.

She laughed suddenly. "I had forgotten you used to call me that. You were the only one who did."

"Yes, baby I know." He replied and smiled at her.

"Alexis, take your friend and go back." Her mother suddenly told her.

"But… I want to stay here with you." She cried as she tried to reach out and grab her mother's hand but failed.

"Not yet, sweetheart. It's too soon. You go back now and take your friend with you. We'll be here waiting for you when it's your time." She broke through the barrier to push her daughter's hands away and Alex began to panic.

"No!" Alex cried and tried with all her might to throw her arms around her neck, but her mother had shoved her this time and Alex felt her body begin to fall backward. She reached out one more time but it wasn't her parents she aimed for, it was Morgan. When she felt the sickening motion of free falling she held tight to his body until the world around her abruptly appeared.

Doc was standing on pins and needles as he waited and waited for any sign or motion from either Alex or Morgan, but the seconds ticked by into minutes and neither one had moved. He didn't want to touch her in fear that his contact might somehow disturb the connection she held with Morgan. The blood had stopped pouring out of Morgan's body as suddenly as it had begun. The gurgling breathing sound he had been emitting had also stopped and was replaced by clear even breaths. When the grip Morgan held to Alex's arm slipped free, Wyatt jumped forward with concern but with a wave of his hand, Doc quickly stopped him.

"Don't, Wyatt! Don't touch her!"

Wyatt's hands hoovered just inches above Morgan's body, fingers clinching and unclinching, wanting to make physical contact but afraid to interfere. "Do something, Doc."

"Like what for instance?"

As suddenly as it began, it stopped. Alex abruptly slipped her arms free from Morgan's body. Wyatt and Virgil both jumped forward to grab their brother as Alex abruptly dropped him, straighten and turned around to face Doc. The minute he looked at her eyes he knew something was seriously wrong. Her face was deathly pale and her normally bright green eyes now held no expression. She stared forward in an unblinking gazed as if she were sleepwalking. She took one or two stiff-gated steps toward him and raised one blood stained fist, holding it out, palm down. Without thinking Doc reached out to receive whatever she was offering and was shocked when she dropped the bloody bullet into his palm. He stared at it not fully comprehending what he saw before looking sharply up at her face. "Alex?"

Alex coughed once, spraying a wet stream of blood over his jacket and collapsed onto the floor.

It was at that moment when Dr. Goodfellow chose to arrive with Milt in tow. He looked once at Alex on the floor in Doc's arms, figured she had simply fainted and rushed to examine Morgan.

"Where was he shot?" He asked. When Wyatt didn't reply fast enough Dr. Goodfellow yelled loudly. "Wyatt!"

"In the back." Wyatt replied as he continued to hold Morgan.

Dr. Goodfellow lifted one of Morgan's eyelids and then the other, checked his pulse before he reached for Morgan and turned him onto his side to examine the wound. In one motion the physician ripped the back of his shirt in two. The good doctor bent forward and saw… nothing. He looked up at Wyatt, shook his head once and touched Morgan's back again. "Are you sure, Wyatt? I don't see a wound." He looked around at the evidence left behind and checked his back again. "No. There's no wound here."

Doc sat on the floor cradling Alex's limp body in his arms and was calling to her softly as he tried to control his rising panic. "Alex, wake up." The only indication that she might be injured was the slow trickle of blood leaking from her mouth. He reached into his pocket for his handkerchief and wiped her lips. "Wake up, sweetheart. Wake up." He called again, but there was still no response. When he shook her gently he felt for the first time the warm stream oozing from her back. He gasped loudly as he looked down at his hands that were now covered with her blood. "Wyatt, something's wrong."

Wyatt looked over at Alex's limp form and knew immediately Doc was right. He could clearly see the red stain spreading across her back and onto Doc's clothing.

"Oh my God." He cried.

As Doc suspected, Morgan's gunshot wound had vanished, absorb by Alex's system. Why she hadn't recovered remained a mystery. Shortly after the wound appeared in her back the bleeding subsided, the wound closed and simply vanished, leaving only a faint red mark behind. He continued to hold her while sitting on the saloon floor and waited for her to open her eyes, but she didn't.

Dr. Goodfellow became irate when Doc blatantly refused to allow Alex to be examined. When the good doctor's accusation and questions became too much for the Earps to explain, Virgil finally forced him to leave and quickly locked the saloon doors so that no one else could come in.

"Now what?" Virgil asked.

"Alex's friends might be able to help. I say we get a wagon and take them both back to Doc's rooms."

Virgil nodded. "Goodfellow won't be put off for long. He'll be back with more questions. He's going to want to know what happened here today and why I'm not sporting a broken arm anymore."

"Yeah, you're right." Wyatt looked at Alex and Morgan as he thought about what to do. Finally, he tossed his hands in hopeless frustration. "I haven't a fucking clue on how to handle this. Let's take on one problem at a time. If were lucky, Goodfellow won't think to look for us at the Grande. "

Milt finally came forward. "Can I do anything to help?"

"Yeah, don't ask any questions, Milt and don't offer any answers to anyone who comes looking." Wyatt replied. "As far as you're concerned, nothing happened here today. Got it?"

Virgil went to get Louisa, Allie, and Josie, while Doc and Wyatt took Morgan and Alex back to the hotel. Doc put Alex on his bed and Wyatt stretched Morgan's limp form on the bed in the adjacent room. Once Wyatt had Morgan comfortable settled he went to help Doc with Alex.

Doc was quietly sitting on the bed beside Alex holding her hand. Every so often he would reach out to touch her face or smooth a long lock of hair. He had removed Alex's blood soaked shirt to examine her back and then quickly covered her with the blanket to preserve her modesty. To a causal observer his countenance would appear composed and patient, but Wyatt knew otherwise. Underneath that calm exterior existed a fountain of emotional turmoil bubbling over with worry, guilt and fear for Alex's life.

"There's not a damn thing wrong with her that I can see. The only mark on her body is a bright red mark in the exact same location as Morgan's wound." Doc remarked when he noticed Wyatt had stepped into the room. "Her pulse is strong, and her breathing is regular. It's like she's sleeping only I can't wake her up. I'm no physician Wyatt. Maybe we should take a chance and have Goodfellow look at her and Morgan. "

"You probably have as much, if not more, medical training as most of the doctors I've seen Doc. I'm comfortable with that. Did she say anything before she passed out?"

Doc shook his head. "She gave me this and then coughed up a lot of blood." He retrieved the bullet from his pocket and handed it to Wyatt.

"Where did the blood come from?"

"If what she says is true about how she heals someone, then her body would have taken on the exact same internal injuries that Morgan had. Wyatt, I'm guessing Morgan was mortally wounded and was quickly dying before Alex could control the bleeding. She may have taken on more then she could handle."

Wyatt looked down at Alex and then quickly over at Morgan. What Doc said had a ring of truth to it and the realization was shocking. His brother had almost died today. "Now what?"

"We wait and see what happens. What of Morgan?"

"The wound disappeared and he appears to be unharmed but he's out cold same as Alex." He raked his hand through his hair. "God, what a fucking mess."

Doc took off his bloody coat and rolled up his shirtsleeves. With a discussed sigh he tossed them on a near by chair. "Perhaps if we had some smelling salts it might bring them both around."

"Good idea. I'll go find some and also stop to inform her friends. Maybe they'll have some idea what to do." He looked back once more at his brother as if he was hesitant about leaving him.

"I'll keep an eye on him Wyatt. Don't worry."

Wyatt went first to see Angel and Spike. He found both men in their room and preparing for the evening confrontation.

"I'm the barer of bad news." The sight of Wyatt in blood stained clothes did little to disturb Angel emotionally. When he continued to look at him solemnly, Wyatt swallowed hard and continued as best he could. "One of those things shot Morgan today in broad daylight. Right before he turned into a human fireball he managed to hit him square in the back. Alex of course tried to help and well…"

When the lawman paused a moment too long and Angel quickly filled in the blanks. "She healed him didn't she?"

"Yeah. Both Morgan and Alex are in Doc's room. You better come."

"Is the girl all right?" Spike asked.

Wyatt slowly shook his head and repeated, "You better come. We…. Well, we're not sure what to do."

Angel turned to look at the now setting sun and then he looked at Spike. The other vampire nodded as he silently intercepted the communication. "No worries. You go play nurse and I'll take her spot patrolling the center of town. We'll meet up later."

"Thanks Spike."

"Don't thank me, Angel, just do what you can for her."

Angel grabbed his coat and followed Wyatt out the door. They both paused out in the hallway. "What's her condition?" He asked the lawman.

"She not in any immediate danger. She managed to heal Morgan's injuries but afterward she passed out and we haven't been able to wake either of them up."

Angel nodded, as he now understood what the trouble was. "Alex's system can only handle so much stress and then it will shut down. Between the injuries she sustained and healing Virgil she over did it. Where's Holliday's room?"

"At the end of the hall, last door on the right. I'm going to find some smelling salts. Maybe that will revive them."

"Truthfully, you'd be better off letting them both come out of it on their own. Morgan I suspect will be awake soon. Alex on the other hand…well, she should have been resting rather than running around town today, but she won't listen to a word I say and your friend Holliday is one big distraction."

"They're in love."

"That love is going to get both of them killed." He spit angrily. He thought for a moment before he turned back to Wyatt. "Go get the smelling salts. It might help, but seriously, I doubt it. I'll go see what I can do."

Doc hadn't moved after Wyatt left. He continued to stare down at Alex's face looking for any sign of consciousness. Her breathing was slow and consistent, her pulse steady, but her skin was deathly pale. He had tried a number of ways to wake her. He had called to her, slapped her lightly on the cheek, washed her face with a cool cloth and even pinched her hard on the arm but through it all Alex remained unconscious, showing no signs she was aware of any physical sensation or her surroundings. With each passing minute he was becoming more concerned. Obviously, healing Morgan had put a tremendous strain on her. What if she never woke up? Then what would he do?

"Damn you, Alex." He whispered.

A sudden knock on his door stirred him from his rising panic. Upon opening the door he was not surprised to find Angel standing there. Doc nodded a slight greeting, as he looked the other man over.

"Wyatt told me what happened. May I come in?" Angel asked. He didn't need an invitation to enter the room. The hotel was a public building, thus allowing anyone to enter, but the smell of lavender and sage was another issue to over come. If he had been a fledgling vampire there would be no way he could withstand the protection she had placed in the room. But he was older, stronger and more experienced then most, a few minutes inside the room would not cause him tremendous harm.

Doc held the door open wider. "Please come in Mr. Montgomery your assistance is most needed now."

Angel took a deep breath and walked through the door. He went directly to Alex's side and almost doubled over from the strong amount of herbs she had placed by the bed. He had to smile a little to himself knowing she had wanted to make sure Holliday was safe while he slept. Angel placed his hand gently against her cheek, and then he listened. Her breathing and pulse were steady and strong but her flesh was cool to the touch. "She hasn't stirred at all since the healing?" He asked Doc without looking away from Alex.

"No. Not once. Has this ever happened before?"

Angels sighed heavily and moved away from the bed to stand in the center of the room getting as far away from the piles of herbs as he could. "Not that I'm aware of. Alex had mentioned some trouble she had when she was first learning the limits of her gift. After a particularly difficult healing, she said she needed to rest, but she never mentioned passing out. Did anything unusual happen after she healed Virgil last night?"

Doc nodded. "She couldn't stand. I had to carry her to the sofa and then she trembled from head to toe for several minutes. After a sip or two of whiskey she seemed better, but just in a weakened state. Could this be permanent? Is there anything I can do to help her?"

Angel shook his head. "Truthfully, I have no idea. Let her rest for now." He looked toward the adjoining room. "How's Morgan?"

"In the same condition."

He frowned deeply and turned back to Doc. "Spike and I can handle patrolling tonight. Can you stay here and watch her? If her condition changes for the worse you'd better get Father Martin."

Just mentioning the priest was enough to alarm him "You don't think she…"

"No, I don't think she'll die from this." He replied, although he was not entirely sure if Alex was in any danger or not. "I'm just being cautious. Alex had given me some instruction if things should go badly. Last rites were one of the things she requested."

"And the other instructions…?"

Angel looked at the gambler for several moments. It would be best if Holliday understood the truth, yet he hesitated to cause him undue stress under the circumstances. "She wanted me to take her home and turn over her remains to the Guardians, along with her weapons and journal. She wants to be buried next to her parents in Maine. There is also her estate which would need to be settled." As he spoke Doc's face became even bleaker. Angel placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "They are just words. Every soldier has similar instructions. Since Alex doesn't have anyone close, she asked me to make sure her last wishes were followed. I'm not telling you she's going to die."

Doc nodded once and smoothed his mustache with his hand. "But she could die."

Angel looked him straight in the face and replied, "I hope her current condition is not permanent. Her ability to heal herself has been a life long thing and it has served her well. This is just another way for Malachi to set her back. I strongly suspect he'll come for her now that she can't fight him. While she's in this condition she's vulnerable and she needs your protection."

Angel waited until Doc acknowledged that he understood before he continued. "But you need to know the odds of her walking away from this mission were never very good. She knew that when she set out to hunt Malachi. It was one of the major factors that contributed to her rebuffing you. She didn't want you to be hurt if she got killed while fighting. However, this scenario," he gestured to Alex, "had not occurred to either of us. She had no intensions of directly interfering with your lives. But sometimes things just happen, making the best intensions useless." He gave Doc a small pat on the shoulder and started for the door.

He paused just as he opened the door. "Stay with her. I'll come back before dawn to check on both of you."

Doc stopped him before he walked away. "What about the Guardian?"

"Did Alex say how many there were?"

"Only the one."

Clearly the news was not good but Angel's reaction was kept to a minimum. "Just the one. Are you sure?"

Doc nodded. "We saw her directly after her visit to Father Martin. She said that only one Guardian had showed up and that others were coming."

"Malachi going to eat this up if he finds out." He looked thoughtfully away for a moment before turning back to Doc. "Stay with her. Get the cross and some holy water from Alex's weapon bag. She left it in my room." He reached into his pocket and tossed Doc the room key. "Keep them with you at all times. If Malachi finds that the Guardians haven't arrived yet, he'll definitely come for Alex before they get here. She's the key to his plan and he'll want to be hunkered down inside that mountain before they come."

Doc retrieved Alex's bag and all her weapons and brought them back to his room as Angel had requested. He also gathered a clean chemise to dress her in. Now that the sun had set he wasted no time in preparing for Malachi's arrival. Next to his bed he placed the cross and bottle of holy water he found inside her bag, a loaded shotgun and two revolvers. Then he set about lighting all the lamps in the room, pulled up a chair next to his bed and began to wait.

Wyatt, Virgil returned without much delay bringing with them Allie, Louisa and Josie. The three women had packed for what Doc supposed was an extended stay in his rooms.

"I think it's best we stay here for the time being. If that's all right with you Doc." Wyatt asked.

Doc nodded his acceptance. "Did you bring the smelling salts, Wyatt?" He asked as he looked in on Louisa weeping over Morgan's unconscious body and Josie standing helplessly by the bed.

"Here." Allie offered as she handed Doc a small glass vial. "Why don't we see if we can't wake her up." She gave him a motherly pat on the shoulder as she followed him over to the bed. Doc passed the sharp smelling bottle back and forth under Alex's nose and received no response.

Allied clucked her tongue loudly. "I was sure that vile smelling stuff could wake the dead." She uttered thoughtlessly before sucking her breath in sharply and raising her hand to cover her mouth. "Oh, dear. I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

Doc appeared to not have heard her remark. Without looking away from Alex's face he passed Allie the vial as he leaned in to place a soft kiss on Alex's forehead. "Wake up, please." He pleaded and for the first time felt hopeless tears fill his eyes.

From the other room there was a loud shout followed by coughing. "Morgan!" Virgil cried.

Doc followed Wyatt and Allie as they rushed to Morgan's bed. "What the hell was that?" Morgan gasped as he sat forward in the bed.

Virgil laughed out loud before replying, "Smelling salts."

"Shit, they got the smelling part right, but why salts?" He was desperately fanning his hand in front of his face as he looked about the room trying to get his bearings before turning to his wife. "Lou, why are you crying, honey?" Louisa only cried harder as she tossed her arms round Morgan's neck.

"Morg, do you feel all right?" Wyatt asked anxiously.

He looked puzzled as he pondered this question while trying his best to comfort his wife. "Well, yeah, I suppose. Why do you ask?"

Wyatt, Virgil and Doc exchanged a series of confused glances before Morgan lost his patience. "Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on and how I got here? And why the hell am I half undressed?" He glanced from one face to another, but no one offered an answer. "Where's Alex? I know she'll tell me what happened." He turned to look at the one man who could help him. "Doc, she was just with me a moment ago. Where did she go?"

Doc glanced awkwardly at Virgil and Wyatt before he gave his answer. "Morgan, Alex is… She's asleep and we can't seem to wake her up."

He immediately got up from the bed ignoring his half dressed state and proceeded into the other room. Virgil and Wyatt tried to convenience him to remain in bed but he refused to listen. When he reached the foot of Alex's bed he finally understood. "Now I remember." He mumbled as he moved to sit on the bedside and reach for her hand. "She followed me and wouldn't let me go on alone." He remarked softly.

Wyatt intercepted Doc's confused glance before asking. "What do you mean, Morgan?"

He continued to focus on Alex but his brows pinched together thoughtfully. "I think I died, Wyatt."

From the opposite side of the bed Louisa gasped loudly before he could continue. "I remember Alex holding me and then I saw a light and started to walk toward it but she was there with me."

He stopped and looked toward Doc who stood in stunned silence. "She held the back of my shirt and wouldn't let me go. I tried to tell her I'd be fine. I mean… it seemed like the right thing to do – to continue to walk into that light." He turned away from Doc to address his brothers again. "Grandpa and Grandma was there, Wyatt. I saw them waving at me, telling me to come closer. Then I saw the man and woman in Alex's photograph, you know, the one we thought were her parents. They were there too, but the woman pushed Alex and told her to go back and to take me with her. I remember falling and then… nothing, until I woke up here."


	54. Another Setback

**Chapter 53 – Another Setback **

Morgan was still too weak to participate in the evening patrol, but Wyatt and Virgil insisted on guarding the streets. After changing into clean clothing, each lawman took a wooden stake from Alex's weapon bag and armed themselves with short swords Doc had found in Angel's room. It was their hope that these weapons combined with their shotguns would give them adequate protection.

"You don't mind staying behind, do you Doc?" Wyatt asked quietly as he waited for Virgil to finish saying goodbye to his wife.

Doc shook his head as he glanced toward the sleeping woman in his bed. He had done all he could for Alex, as limited as his options were. With Allie's assistance, he had managed to give Alex a light sponge bath and then dress her in a clean chemise. Her hair he had brushed and then left loose over her pillow and shoulders. Although providing her personal care was a necessary function, and one he preferred to perform himself, the end result made the hair on his arms stand up. Alex now looked like freshly groomed corpse. True, he knew in his heart she was only in a deep sleep, but the resemblance between her still form and the memory of the powdered and carefully arranged body of his dead mother was hauntingly similar.

Dark memories invaded Doc's mind, and as hard as he tried, he couldn't seem to cleanse his spirit of the past. He had not been allowed to care for his mother after her death. That task had been completed by her closest kin, namely, the other female members of her family. He couldn't recall where his father was when he learned of his wife's passing. Not that he mattered anyway. But Doc had refused to leave his mother alone. When the women tried to coax him into leaving the room so that they could wash and dress the body, he only shook his head and continued to shed his silent tears from a corner chair. He didn't leave his mother, and he wouldn't leave Alex either. "I'd rather stay here, Wyatt. I want to be here if she wakes up."

Wyatt looked toward Alex. "I'm sure her condition is only temporary."

Doc issued a short bitter laugh. "You maybe sure, my friend, but I am not so fortunate to have your faith. What do you make of Morgan's vision?"

Wyatt looked briefly at his brother as he rested in bed before he glanced once more at Alex. "I don't know, Doc." He replied solemnly. "I really don't know what to make of it."

"I believe him." Doc replied firmly. "I've heard of stories like that before. My own mother claimed to have conversed with her parents as she lay in her deathbed. It's an omen, and not a good one I might add."

Wyatt's eyes widen with concern. "You don't think that she is…"

Doc waved away his statement as he tried to wave away his internal fears. "I don't know what to believe anymore. I only know that I'm afraid for her, Wyatt."

Doc's ominous mood left Wyatt little recourse than to place a comforting hand on his friend's thin shoulder. "We'll be outside in front of the hotel if you need us, Doc."

Doc watched Wyatt kiss Josie once more before following his brother out the door. Then Doc closed and locked the door behind them.

Louisa, Allie and Josie all looked toward him with anticipation. The sight of their earnest, yet charming expressions, made him pause. _I might be the man in charge, but dear God, I hope they don't think I have all the answers._ Doc issued a soft chuckle. "Well, this is one situation I never imagined – Morgan and I alone with four beautiful women."

Allie rolled her eyes with irritation as she fluffed the pillow under Alex's head. "Instead of gawking at us, John Holliday, how about getting us something to eat."

_Ah, the appearance of control is but a reflection in a flawed mirror._ He chuckled again and inclined his head ever so slightly as he gave Allie a small grin. "An excellent suggestion, Mrs. Earp. As usual, your perception is as sharp as a blade."

Time passed slowly while Doc kept his vigil next to Alex. After changing into clean clothing and eating a hot meal he felt the gloom that surrounded him lift somewhat. Although Alex still remained unconscious, he noted that her coloring seemed to have improved. _Maybe her progress is just slow,_ he thought.

He settled down in the chair next to her bed with a large brandy and her husband's journal, with hope that it might reveal a solution on how to end this war. He was also eager to unravel the last remaining mystery that Alex refused to solve earlier. Wyatt was certainly right. Discovering Malachi's motivation could undoubtedly lead to a way to stop him, and Doc had no qualms about risking Alex's wrath by reading Malachi's journal.

Allie and Josie lay down on the sofas to nap, while Louisa remained seated in a chair next to Morgan who continued to rest in the other bed.

The hours ticked by slowly, and although Doc tried to concentrate on Malachi's journal, his thoughts continuously returned to Alex. She hadn't moved an inch. The slow rise and fall of her breathing was the only indication that she still lived.

During the short time he had known her, he had yet to see her so still. There were countless incidences since her arrive when he had secretly watched her. He loved to observe her working in the dining room as he admired how easily and naturally she conversed with the patrons. A trait he lacked and longed to possess. The few nights she had spent in his company he had woken several times throughout the night and gazed transfixed at her sleeping form, unable to understand what he had done to warrant such fortune before curling up alongside her body to drift back to sleep. During those nights together she had always sensed his movements and would automatically reach for him until he settled down again. He found the growing closeness between them touching. There would be no way he would be able to leave the bed without her knowing it. Unlike Kate, who often slept like the dead and never really cared if he spent a sleepless night sitting in a chair gasping for breath.

How unlike the two women were, and how different he felt when he was with Alex.

He reached for her wrist to check her pulse again and found it to be slow but steady. The dark tattoos on her forearms were easy to see even in the soft lamplight. He chuckled softly at how distracted he must have been that he hadn't noticed them before. With one finger he gently traced the circle of thorns. What manner of grief would inspire a woman to join such an organization? How exactly did she learn about her parent's death? Whatever the method, discovering the truth must have been traumatic for her to make such an extreme decision to leave the outside world and join the elite group.

He picked up Malachi's journal again and began to flip through the book when a small colored photo fell out from between the pages. It was a three-inch by five-inch portrait of Alex with her legs tucked to her chest as she sat on a large boulder by the seashore. From the look of her clothing it must have been close to winter. She wore dungarees, and a long sleeve green sweater that showed off her green eyes perfectly. On her feet were boots, as if she had been walking on the rugged shoreline. Her hair was just the way he liked it, loose and flowing in the wind. Whoever the photographer was had managed to capture her in a natural pose. Doc even imagined that she had been staring out at the sea just moments before turning to look at the camera.

He turned the photo over and read the inscription on the back. It simply said, _'My Girl'_. The year was noted as two thousand, a new millennium. Doc looked from the photo to the sleeping woman in his bed. The stillness of her form was a sharp contrast from the vibrant imagine in the photograph.

Once again he leaned in to touch her face with the edge of his finger. Gently, he glided over her cheek before skimming the tip of his finger across her lower lip. "Alex." He called for the umpteenth time. "Please wake up."

Outside the hotel, Virgil and Wyatt stayed hidden in the shadows as they guarded the building. Virgil took up a position in the alley that ran parallel to the Miller's store and directly across the street from the hotel, which enabled him to cover the building from the front, while Wyatt stood in the alley that ran alongside the hotel so that he could guard the rear. Each man held a double barrel shotgun as they watched the eerie stillness of the town; their swords and wooden stakes fasten to their gun belts.

The phony smallpox epidemic had worked wonders. Most of the town's residence now kept close to their homes. Only a small cat made its way down the thoroughfare. With trepidation, Virgil watched it stalk for mice. He never fancied cats. You could never tell what a feline was thinking or feeling, particularly when they would sit and watch you with that calm sinister stare they possessed. A dog on the other hand, would look at you and you could tell by the set of its mouth and the tilt of its ears exactly what was on its mind. A dog's eyes were expressive, almost childlike, and would radiate happiness, hunger, or sadness easily. But a cat always portrayed an unnatural stillness that revealed little about its intensions.

The cat he was now watching was no different. It slinked silently in and out of the shadows while it kept its prey insight. Only the tip of its tail flicking back and forth gave any indication of the cat's motive. Virgil watched as the feline crouched low to the ground and moved to swat alongside the wooden walkway that lined the front of store. The unsuspecting mouse had paused several yards ahead to munch on a small pile of grain that someone had probably spilt while loading a wagon. Clearly the mouse was doomed.

Virgil's hate of the dreaded feline surged to the point where he almost yelled out loud to intentionally scare the cat and its evening meal, but that foolish action would only give his position away and piss Wyatt off. He set is lips firmly and looked around for a rock to toss instead.

After he palmed a small stone he hesitated from throwing it when he saw the cat staring intently at him instead of the mouse. Suddenly, the cat flattened back its ears and hissed violently before bolting across the street. In a split second Virgil realized what had frightened the animal. In one fluid movement, he raised the rifle to his shoulder, turned, and fired.

The vampire standing behind him flew backward, his shirt smoking and burning from the closeness of the blast. Virgil didn't wait to see what damage the shot might have caused before he fired again, and then he dropped his weapon to pull free his sword. He swung the blade in a downward motion and watched as his opponent disintegrated into a pile of ash.

Wyatt yelled for his brother as he emerged from his shelter, shotgun in hand.

Virgil turned to seek him out and saw three other demons closing in behind Wyatt. "Behind you." He shouted as he started to run to his brother's aid.

Wyatt turned to fire but was too late. The vampire behind him grabbed the barrel of the gun and tore the weapon from his hands. A large smile revealed jagged teeth as the demon carelessly tossed the rifle several yards away.

"Wyatt Earp," he grinned, "my maker would like to extend an cordial invitation to make your kind acquaintance." Before Wyatt could defend himself he was jerked forward and into the monster's arms.

Wyatt couldn't move. The being had him crushed against his chest with one arm while his other hand sank deep into his hair, yanking his head sharply to one side. Razor sharp teeth slowly sliced through his neck as cool lips closed around the wound to caress his skin. When the vampire began to suck an eerie sense of calm descended around Wyatt. From far off he could hear Virgil screaming his name but Wyatt found he didn't care. He felt safe and secure in the arms that held him while a pleasant burning sensation began to build in his lower stomach, spreading downward through his groin. Sensing the emotional change in his victim, the demon released the hold he had on Wyatt's hair and slid his hand down the front of the lawman's body and grabbed his aching erection.

Wyatt knew he should be revolted by his arousal, but instead of trying to push away his attacker he reached up to grab a handhold on the demon's coat. The vampire laughed softly against his neck and began to massage the lawman's cock as he increased the pull against his neck. Wyatt's orgasm was instantaneous.

"Wyatt." Virgil yelled again as he desperately fought the two demons that blocked his path. Wyatt was obviously trapped and Virgil began to fear it was too late to save him.

From the roofline of the hotel a tall-dark shape paused to observe the scene below and laughed softly before turning away to continue onto his destination.

Spike easily hurdled the fifteen-foot distance from the roof of the hardware store to the roof of the Grande Hotel as he pursued his adversary. The battle below caught his attention and he cursed softly when he realized the Earps were in serious trouble. Leaping down to the ground he quickly stabbed the vampire that held Wyatt with a long pointed stake before flipping it backward to strike the demon sneaking up behind him. Two sharp bursts of air were heard before Wyatt collapsed at his feet and moaned loudly as he rolled onto his back.

With the odds improved, Virgil made quick work dispatching the vampire he fought and raced to his brother's side.

Spike gave the wounded man only a moment of pity before turning to Virgil and ordered, "Stay with him." Before he ran back to the hotel's porch, hoisting himself up and onto the roof, and then quickly disappeared.

Virgil lifted Wyatt to his feet. "Wyatt! Can you stand?"

Wyatt's head tipped back as his eyes rolled white. Virgil let out a stream of curses and tossed his brother over his shoulder as he ran into the hotel. Just as he reached the hallway outside of Doc's room he heard the sound of glass shattering as a window inside the room exploded inward. Virgil tried to open the door but found it was locked. "Doc!" He called loudly.

Alarmed by the loud noises, several guests began to look out into the hallway as they tried to discern what the disturbance was all about. Virgil flashed them a heated look and growled, "Get back inside and lock your doors."

He dropped Wyatt unceremoniously onto the hall floor, turned and kicked Doc's door open.

Malachi stood inside the room with the broken window at his back. A growing cloud of smoke was rising around him as Alex's protection spell began to consume him. "Give me my wife." He ordered in a low deadly voice that contained none of the carefree cocky attitude he had displayed in the saloon. He had no more patience for nonsense or bumbling stupid humans. He intended to get what belong to him. "Give her to me and maybe I'll let the rest of you go free."

Doc stood braced against the foot of Alex's bed. Behind him Allie and Josie huddled protectively over Alex's still form. To Doc's right Morgan held the shotgun to his shoulder as he sheltered Louisa behind him.

"Say please." Doc replied casually while thumbing back the hammers of both guns.

Malachi let out a low feral growl. "Please." He hissed and took a step forward.

From out on the roof, Spike suddenly reached through the broken window, grabbed Malachi around the neck and hauled him backward through the opening and onto the roof. There was a violent fistfight between the two men before Doc and Morgan saw an opening to fire their weapons.

Malachi was hit with several rounds simultaneously. He screamed loudly, stumbled backward and fell off the roof. Before Spike could drop to the ground to make the kill a running horse emerged, scooped up the wounded vampire and raced off.

"Bloody hell." Spike cursed loudly and leaped off the roof to run after them.

* * *

Wyatt felt a cool cloth pressed to his forehead. Around him he could hear low voices laced with concern. He tried to move but his body was sluggish and his eyes felt so heavy.

"Don't move." Virgil ordered as he placed a gentle hand on his chest. "You'll just make yourself dizzy if you try to sit up." He reached back and took the glass of whiskey Doc was offering and held it to Wyatt's lips. "Sip it slow."

Wyatt felt the fluid pass over his lips and a thirst like he had never felt before suddenly took control. Like a ravenous child he tried to gulp down the liquid before Virgil with drew the glass. "More." He begged.

"In a minute." Virgil replied as he gently turned Wyatt's head to one side to expose the gaping wound on his neck. "This is going to hurt." He warned before dousing the wound with the whiskey.

Wyatt hissed sharply between clenched teeth. "One more time should do it." He heard Virgil warn again. This time the pain wasn't so great and Wyatt let out a sigh of relief. His head was lifted again and cool water flowed into his mouth. He greedily swallowed every drop before asking for more. Several glasses later and his thirst was finally quenched. Wyatt sighed deeply and drifted off to sleep.

In a tender show of affection, Virgil gently swept the hair back from his brother's forehead before he covered him with a blanket. As he gazed down at Wyatt's pale face and the large bloody wound on his neck, his gut suddenly churned making him feel like he could vomit. Within the last twelve hours Virgil had almost lost both his brothers, how much darker could the situation become? So far Malachi had managed to hurt his family in ways he had never imagined. They had been physically injured to the point of death, their women attacked and one killed outright, run out of their homes, and their business operations seriously interrupted. "I want to get this son of a bitch." He growled.

"Indeed." Doc concurred. "And I shall help you."

Virgil turned to look at the gambler, and the two men exchanged a world of weariness as Virgil nodded toward the window. "The sun's coming up. Let's get some rest."

* * *

**A/N: Happy Valentine's Day one and all! I'll have another chapter up in about two weeks. Don't forget to leave me a review! **


	55. One Last Goodbye

**Chapter 54 – One Last Goodbye**

A lonely prospector wandered down the road just beyond the Clanton ranch. The bright moonlight lit his path well enough to make it safe to travel down the dirt road. Normally, he wouldn't risk traveling at night, but his horse had gone lame several miles outside of Tombstone and rather than camp in the cold one more night he decided to just walk the remaining distance in the dark. One more hour walking and he envisioned eating a hot meal and sleeping in a real bed for a change.

"We'll get you some proper shoes too, Randy, and a big bucket of oats to sooth your suffering."

Randy blew air out his nose and pushed his muzzle against his owner's shoulder. "Ah, big boy. So you think that's a good plan do ya?"

Before Randy could response an eerie howl was heard echoing through the woods. The horse raised its head, ears alert, eyes straining to see into the darkness. Almost immediately, the cry was heard a second time. Randy answered with a worried nicker and tried to sidestep beyond the boundaries of his reins.

The miner tightened his hold on the horse. "There, there… easy boy. Tis nothing but a coyote singing to the moon." He tried to sooth the horse with a gentle reassuring pat, but the horse was still alarmed and before his owner could settle him down another eerie howl echoed through the night air even louder than before. Randy jerked hard against his reins and whinnied loudly with fright. This time even the miner was unsettled. There was something about that howling that raised the hair on the back of his neck. "I've never heard a coyote call out like that." He told the horse.

A sense of alarm began to stir in the pit of the man's stomach. He slowed his pace and looked about. All around him he saw only shadows and trees on both sides of the road. _I don't see any_ _danger_, he thought. Why then did he feel the need to run? To run like he'd never run before, run and never look back. Because if he did turn to glance at what might be pursuing them he would see the darkness running together; bits and pieces of the inky night breaking free from the host to meld and form a new entity, and that entity was hungry for the blood of man.

A forth howl sounded, and before the minor was aware of making a conscious decision, he wrapped the reins several times around his hand and began to run. Randy needed no coaxing to follow his owner and was soon leading the way. His flight or fight instinct guiding him and his owner toward salvation.

They made it safely into Tombstone thirty-five minutes later, and good faithful Randy had his bucket of oats twenty-five minutes sooner than originally planned.

* * *

"Hold still, damn it." Breakenridge snapped. "There's still one more bullet lodged under your rib." He slipped the long retractor into the bloody hole in Malachi's chest and began to probe around until he tapped up against the slug.

Malachi let lose another horrifying scream but managed to keep his upper body from shifting around too much. He already found out that if he moved it only hurt more.

"Almost… got… it. There." He held the bloody metal up for his maker to see. "Shit, five gunshot wounds, Malachi. You're lucky you didn't bleed dry." He turned and dropped the bloody bullet into a metal bowl.

When Malachi heard the clink of the slug hitting the bowl he collapsed back against the thin mat that made up his bed and sighed deeply with relief. "Thank you, Bill. That's the second time you've saved my bacon."

Bill Breakenridge said nothing as he carefully cleaned his maker's wounds before he began the task of applying a bandage. However, he would have liked to point out that no woman was worth getting shot and severely beaten over, but he knew any comment he made now would only set Malachi off, and after what had happened tonight he didn't want to listen to an hour of ranting and raging.

Malachi sighed again once the bandage was in place. "I was so close." He turned to look at his cohort. Did I tell you I actually got into the room? Broke through the damn barrier too."

Breakenridge snorted with irritation. "Well, that would explain the burn marks on your hands and clothing."

Malachi wasn't listening. He was reliving the moment he smashed the window and saw Alex unconscious on the bed. "She was helpless, Bill, just as I knew she would be. Her infatuation with these Earps and that damn gambler has made my girl careless and weak. My plan would have worked if Spike hadn't come along."

It would have been useless to point out that Alexis McCulloch wasn't as careless as her husband thought, and so Billy remained silent. She had formed strong alliances with some very resilient men and two powerful vampires. No sir, Malachi's wife might be a lot of things, but imprudent wasn't one of them.

"We'll go at them again as soon as it's dark. I'm bound to succeed next time."

Billy realized it was time to talk some sense into Malachi, before he got himself killed and ruined all their plans. He laid a comforting hand on the injured vampire's shoulder. "If you wait until you've healed, your chance for success will double. Give yourself twenty-four hours before you attack them again."

Malachi looked at the calm reason in Breakenridge's eyes and knew he was right. "All right then, twenty-four hours."

* * *

After helping Virgil secure the shutter over the broken window, Doc continued his watch over Alex. He sat in a chair by her bed and rested his head in the circle of his arms as he leaned on the mattress. He dozed, but his rest was uneasy. Throughout Malachi's attack Alex remained motionless, and completely unaware of the danger she was in. If their defense had not been successful, her demon-husband would have succeeded in capturing her. That thought alone was what kept Doc awake and uneasy long after the others had sought their rest.

Not long after the sun rose, Angel and Spike returned to check on Alex's condition. Both men had reported a number of attacks throughout the night. As they related the evening's events, they realized there had been a systematic and multilevel assault with the intent to keep them occupied and defensive while Malachi moved with a single purpose – to capture Alex. His attack on the hotel had been so well planned Doc couldn't help but be in awe of his adversary's brilliance. Obviously, Angel's insult regarding Malachi's intelligence had been just that, an insult, spoken to provoke the other man into a fight. Bait that Malachi hadn't taken, which was another point of admiration Doc was beginning to recognize.

He was not surprised to learn Malachi had made another miraculous escape. It was becoming very apparent that the ex-Guardian was as proficient as Alex had said he was. Doc could only wonder what kind of training a Guardian received that could turn a normal human being into such a lethal and efficient weapon. When she woke from her slumber he would be sure to ask her. There were so many pieces of her past he knew nothing about. Her training to become a Guardian was just another mysterious link that kept him enthralled.

Clearly, if they were going to win this war mere force would not be enough to ensure a victory. They would need a plan so original, so outstanding that would furnish them the element of surprise and the upper hand. So far, Angel, Spike and Alex had done a good job of countering Malachi's attacks, but Doc was beginning to see that the odds were shifting against them. It was quickly becoming time to make the final call in this poker game or they would lose everything they placed in the till.

It was agreed that after a few hours of sleep they would regroup and make plans for the coming night. Josie remained with Wyatt, laying down next to her wounded love with her one hand gripped tightly over his. Allie and Louisa slept on the sofas, while Virgil and Morgan camped on the floor.

Apprehension plagued his mind making it hard for Doc to find the rest he needed. He kept watch over the others for the next few hours until exhaustion won out, and he fell into a fitful sleep.

* * *

The day was so bright and full of promise. The air was warm but not overly so, and the ocean looked like it was speckled with a thousand diamonds as it played touch and go with the beach. Gulls sounded out as they swooped through the air looking for the perfect meal. All was right in the world.

Alex found herself standing on the beach, although she wasn't sure how she had gotten here. High above her head and just several yards beyond was their favorite pile of rocks. Their very own meeting place. She always called it 'neutral ground'. Whenever they had a fight or disagreement it was at this peaceful spot where they would meet after tempers had cooled. So, she surmised that since she was standing here once again, there must have been some kind of disagreement with her husband that needed healing.

Looking down at her feet she saw she wore her boots so climbing to the top would not be a problem. There were several footholds that needed careful maneuvering and just one handhold that always made her a tad nervous, but the effort was the price she paid for bruised feelings and hard words with her husband.

Her uncle would never understand why she married Malachi, even though she had tried to explain it to him. It wasn't what her husband possessed that drew her to him originally, it was what she saw hidden underneath all the years of hardship and pain that spoke of the man he could be if given the chance and encouragement to bloom. Malachi was her flower and with careful attention, nurturing, and love, she would watch him grow.

Once she reached the top stone she admired the beauty of the ocean. They had been coming to this spot since the first year they met. The beach was just a mile from her parent's house and she always returned here whenever the opportunity arose, and it was here, walking on the beach, that she felt the closest to her past.

Just beyond this formation of rocks her father had taught her to fish in the morning surf, and her mother had walked miles and mile with her just to find the perfect seashell to add to her childhood collection. She loved this spot, come rain or shine there was nowhere else on this planet that made her as happy as this beach did.

But how did she get here? If she and Malachi were fighting again, why couldn't she remember what it was about? There was something she was missing. Something forgotten.

She shrugged off her discontentment and sat Indian style on the large boulder, closed her eyes and listened to the sea. It was during this mediation when Malachi arrived and kissed her sweetly on the cheek.

She shaded her hand over her eyes to block out the sun as she looked up at his tall form. "You're late." She teased.

"I'm not." He replied with a grin. "Been busy watching the woman I love from afar. But it's time we had our last heart to heart, Alexis." He finally sat down alongside her and kissed her passionately. "I'll miss kissing you." He remarked off handedly.

Alex found the statement somewhat ominous but said nothing. "Why am I here?"

"Because I called you, that's why. I won't get to do it again for a very long time, so listen closely."

She placed her hand on his arm to stop him. "Did we fight, Mal? I don't remember."

"In a matter of speaking. But it is closer to the truth to say I did you a tremendous wrong, Alex. I'm here now to try to make amends with you and to right that wrong. Can you understand that?"

She bit her lower lip as she tried to decide if such a thing was possible. "It might be too late."

He smiled his brightest smile for her. "So you do remember."

"Sort of. It's coming back in bits and pieces. There was a town in trouble. I remember that. And there was a blonde haired man who likes… Oh, it's gone again. Sorry." She waved her hand around. "I'm sure it will come back to me."

"Yes it will." He assured her. "Until then you need to prepare. The priest will have to help you. He is the key."

She nodded eagerly as she listened. "Tell me what I need to do, Malachi."

Everything made complete sense as he spoke to her. It was his ability to analyze a problem and execute a strategic counter maneuver that always amazed her. This plan, like all his other plans, was a good one. The simplicity of the design spoke volumes about his intellect, but the success would depend on the timing.

"Draw him out and make him come to you. Don't let him corner you in a small area; keep your field of battle open around you."

She nodded again. "He'll want to fight me one-on-one. It will be a fight I can't win. You should know that."

"I do." He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and focused his gaze on the sea. She watched the surf with him and said nothing. Finally, she sighed loudly and stood up to take her leave. "Have we resolved our disagreement then?"

He stood up with her and causally brushed his thick-dark hair from his face, and Alex was suddenly struck with the heartbreaking realization that after he leaves her she'll never again enjoy the loose breezy way his hair always fell across his face. "It was never up to you to resolve it, Alex. The fault was entirely mine. I fucked up, and I'm sorry that I hurt you so badly." He circled his arms around her shoulders and looked down at her. "I should have been a better husband and a better friend to you. Your uncle was right to disapprove of our marriage."

"No, Malachi," she replied firmly, "he was wrong. It wasn't up to him. The decision was mine, and I feel I chose well. I should have made that clear to my uncle and I didn't. I guess… I thought you understood how I felt. I was wrong. You were a good man, you just didn't get a chance to live up to your potential."

"It doesn't matter now." He kissed her softly and then smiled at her. "You always see the bright side of people and situations. It's one of your strongest traits. That was something I was never able to do. I would look for the fault or dark element in someone and use it against them. He'll do the same thing to you. He'll look for your fear and defeat once he has you beaten down and that's when he'll strike the fatal blow. When that time comes, use it against him."

She tilted her head to one side as she thought about what he said. "I don't see how?"

"Look for the dentist and you'll know the time is right."

"You mean Doc, don't you?"

"Yes."

She looked away from him feeling embarrassed and guilty over her affair. "I care for him." She said without meeting his eyes. "You're not hurt or angry are you?"

He shrugged lightly. "Those emotions don't exist for me anymore."

"I wish things had been different."

He smiled softly and took her hand to lead her away. "I have learned that there is a divine plan, Alex, and believe it or not, things work out just as they're supposed to."

Together they walked in silence, her hand locked tightly in his. Just before they got to the point where they would part, she stopped him. "What happened to you Malachi? I need to know."

He looked away for a moment, as if he was hesitant about giving her an answer. "Our unit was killed because I betrayed them, but your already know that." He sighed loudly and turned to face her. "Plain and simple, Alexis, I let my ambition, my greed and my insecurity rule my reason. I wanted to prove something to you and to your family. I wanted the world to sit up and take notice of us. I thought that if I acuminated a great deal of wealth it would somehow make me a better man, but in reality it destroyed our marriage and me. I didn't realize that your love and trust were worth more than a mountain of gold. My thoughts became distorted, my priorities irrational. I should have given you a home and children, but my memory of Beth and how her death hurt my family got in the way. My anger got in the way. Old anger that I should have let die long ago, but instead I kept it alive with my fear.

What he was telling her should have been extremely painful, but it wasn't. "I shouldn't have pushed so hard. We had time to start a family, but the more you held back the more I wanted it. I don't know why I felt that way. I'm sorry, Mal."

"Don't be. You were trying to push me in the right direction. I needed more time, but that wasn't meant to be. When you make a deal with the devil you ask to be betrayed. They created that demon just for fun and tried to keep him there. When he finally got free he killed them all and took the book. Thank God you survived, Alexis."

"We looked for you for days and days."

He laughed softly and shook his head. "I was only alive for an hour after the attack ended. It was an hour too long. Within moments I knew I made a grave error. Afterwards, it didn't matter if I lived or died. My unit was killed and I thought you had been killed too. Nothing mattered to me if I couldn't have you. I'm sorry I failed you, Alexis."

Her hand swept up to brush her fingers through his hair one last time. "I don't see our marriage as a failure." She replied softly. "I'm thankful for the time we had together. I just wish things had worked out differently."

"Will you stay with him?"

She shrugged. "He likes cards, you know. Gambles and drinks too much. But you know as well as I do that I shouldn't stay with him. It's not right."

He smiled, an all knowing mysterious smile that spoke of things beyond her intellect. "It's not for you to say what is right and what isn't."

"Am I supposed to stay with him, Malachi? Do you know?"

"When the time comes, you'll find your answers." He caressed her cheek and leaned down to kiss her once more. "Remember what I told you."

"Goodbye, Malachi." She whispered as she hugged him back.

"It's not goodbye, Alex. You and I will always be a part of one another. Life is a continuous cycle, and when the seasons come full circle we'll see each other again. Until then, enjoy life and be happy and… remember how I loved you."

* * *

Not long before nightfall, Alex finally stirred from her slumber without any aftereffects from her ordeal. When the battle formed around the boundaries of the town she insisted on taking up her place in the fight. Doc did his best to fight by her side. Her proficiency and skill with her sword amazed him again and again, as she slew one vampire after another, but they were still outnumbered. A multitude of demons continued to pour from the mountain and it quickly became apparent that they were going to lose. It was time to retreat.

Doc looked around to find her in the shadowy darkness and finally spotted her several yards away fighting against Malachi. Raw fear rocked through his body. He had let her get too far from his reach and now she was trapped, fighting for her life against a stronger more powerful opponent. He shouted her name as he tried to fight his way through one vampire after another, but there were so many in his path, and he feared he would never reach her in time.

Malachi was advancing on her, violently swinging and thrusting his sword as he forced Alex backward. He had managed to maneuver her up against a rocky embankment and now she was trapped, with no way to escape. Frantically, Doc looked around to seek out her companions for help, but they were also too far away to come to her aid. Panic stricken, he pushed through several demons blocking his path and started to run.

He screamed her name again just as Malachi thrust his sword into her stomach deep enough to send the blade through her body until it emerged out her back. She looked directly at her demon-husband; the shock of his shattering blow was clearly seen on her face. Malachi displayed no mercy, but only grinned wildly and twisted the blade a half rotation before withdrawing it.

Alex remained upright for only a moment before she reached across her midsection and slowly dropped to her knees.

"NO!" Doc screamed. A spasm of pain coursed through his chest, so rich, so violent, that he struggled breathe. "Alex!"

At the sound of her name, Alex turned to toward Doc. Their eyes locked, and an array of emotion flashed over her face before she calmly, peacefully, smiled at him. Her expression held a hidden message as she began to mouth his name and the words 'I love you', but before he could think to respond he saw Malachi raise his sword one last time to deal the final blow by cleanly severing her head from her body.

Doc Holliday bolted upright, an unvoiced cry lodged in his throat, and his heart pounding painfully in his ears. He quickly looked at Alex and relief flooded through him leaving him trembling violently and on the verge of tears when he saw she was unharmed. It had all been just a horrible dream. He looked down at his hands and saw he had drawn his weapon. He gasped softly and holstered his gun as he consciously took several deeps breath to calm his racing heart. _Just a bad dream._ Why then did he feel hot tears building in the back of his eyes? He reached for his handkerchief on the nightstand to blot his eyes and wipe the sweat off his face.

From across the room, Virgil groaned softly in his sleep and mumbled something Doc couldn't quite make out before rolling onto his left side. _I'm not the only one who has fitful dreams,_ he thought.

A sudden knock on the hotel room door shattered whatever reserve he had, causing Doc to let out a startled cry. He quickly pulled his weapon again and started for the door. Before he could reach the doorknob the knock was heard again only this time more forceful and determined than before. Doc paused from answering when he heard Virgil and Morgan quickly jump to their feet.

"Easy, Doc," Virgil whispered. "We have no idea what might be on the other side of that door." He pulled his pistol and flattened his back against the wall to the left of the door. Then he made a quick motion to his wife, sister-in-law and Josie to remain out of sight before he nodded once in Morgan's direction.

Morgan took up a defensive position behind Doc's shoulder, and when Doc heard the double click of both hammers being pulled back on the shotgun he slowly reached for the doorknob. The knock came again. "Who is it?" Doc asked in a gruff voice.

"It's Dr. Goodfellow. I came to check on my patient."

Doc glanced at Virgil and raised both eyebrows as he silently asked what he should do.

Virgil cursed under his breath and nodded for Doc to open the door.

Doc held the door ajar only far enough for the good doctor to see his face. He showed the physician his coldest expression and replied, "Your call is imprudent and unwarranted, Dr. Goodfellow. You have no patients here."

Dr. Goodfellow was not alarmed by the gambler's curt manner. "Dr. Holliday, how nice to see you enjoying good health. May I come in?"

Doc set his jaw with irritation. "I am not in good health, doctor. You are disturbing my rest."

Dr. Goodfellow did his best to spy into the room beyond Doc's shoulders but had little success. "Sleeping still, at ten o'clock in the morning?"

"I have only just retired, sir, having spent the night playing poker. You are, indeed, interrupting my rest. May I remind you that I am not known for my good humor, Dr. Goodfellow. I suggest you seek some medical patients elsewhere."

"I was told the Earps were staying in your rooms as well." He replied in his firmest tone. "I assure you I won't take but a moment of your precious time, if you'll allow me to see to Virgil Earp's wounded arm I will…" He reached out and tried to push the door open further but Doc held his position.

Thoroughly annoyed by the good doctor's intentions, Doc flashed the man his blackest look, opened the door far enough so that he could step out into the hallway, and close the door sharply behind him. "You go too far, dear doctor, let me explain… My friends, the Earps, are not staying in my rooms." He voice rose sharply as he stepped closer to the physician. "I don't know where the Earps are at the moment, nor do I care."

Doctor Goodfellow realized his tragic mistake when Doc Holliday stepped out into the hallway with a loaded pistol in his hand and an enraged expression on his face. Without realizing what he was doing he took several steps backward.

Doc continued to advance. With each step he took, he was backing the doctor down the hallway. " I do, however, care very much that you are hindering me and the young lady I have in my room from enjoy some quality time together. Time that I am, at the moment, paying for! Do I make myself clear?"

The reality of what the gambler just confessed showed brightly on the doctor's face. He actually blushed deeply before clearing his throat several times with embarrassment. "I… uh, am sorry to have disturbed you, Dr. Holliday. Please accept my apologies…"

In light of the other man's discomfort, Doc was having a hard time keeping a straight face, but he somehow managed to increase his frown further as he dismissed the physician. "I'll accept the back of your head walking away a hell of a lot better, Dr. Goodfellow. Good-day to you, sir."

He finally cracked a grin once he returned to his room, closed the door and locked it.

Virgil and Morgan were both just as amused. "Damn, Doc. It's been so long since I've seen that side of you that I forgot what a miserable son-of-a-bitch you can be." Morgan gushed.

"Amen to that." Virgil echoed.

"So, you heard… Well, you knew he'd come looking for us sooner or later. May I allow that it will be some time before he works up the nerve to knock on my door again?" He holstered his gun as he glanced quickly at the other four women in his room and added, "Besides, he'd be a sight more embarrassed if I had let him in to see not one woman but a total of four in my rooms."

Josie and Louisa quickly covered their mouths and giggled. Allie only shook her head and ordered everyone back to bed. "I'm too tired to be amused." She yawned as she lay back down on the small sofa to continue her rest.

The only two people who were not disturbed by the physician's visit were Wyatt and Alex. Ironically, Doc was glad Wyatt remained asleep. Sleep is what he needed more than anything right now, but Alex's continued slumber made him uneasy. Flashes of his dream broke through reality and he saw as clear as day Malachi's deadly blow and Alex's shattered body left bleeding on the ground. His gazed wandered around the room to make certain their sleeping quarters were secure before turning back to look at Alex. The sudden need to feel the warmth of her body resting against his was overwhelming and one he wasn't going to fight, especially after the dream he just had. He quickly stripped down to his underwear before sliding into the bed. With a sigh of contentment, he curled around her body and drifted off.

It seemed he had only been asleep for a few hours when he woke feeling extremely warm and with a large amount of hair in his mouth. When he turned his head he realized the hair in his mouth was Alex's and the heat he was feeling was due to her laying halfway across his body. Sometime after he had fallen asleep she had moved, and now her head was resting on his shoulder, her arm was wrapped around his neck, and one leg was tossed over his thigh.

Hope flooded his heart as he shifted his body around so that he could get a better look at her. When he moved she groaned in protest and he had to stop himself from shouting with joy. He partially cleared his mouth and whispered, "Alex," while shaking her shoulder gently.

"Hmmm?" She responded in a sleepy tone but still didn't open her eyes.

"Darlin, wake up."

She moaned again and snuggled deeper against his body, completely concealing her face with her hair. Without opening her eyes, her hand came up to seek his face, and Doc almost laughed aloud when she found his mouth and yanked loose the remaining strands of her hair. Once more he called to her while parting the veil of blonde tresses to get a better view of her face.

"Huh, what?" She murmured, and finally opened her eyes.

Doc breathed a sigh of relief and leaned in to kiss her. "Thank God." He whispered against her cheek. "How do you feel?"

"All right, I think." She lifted her head to glance around the room. Her brows pinched sharply as she tried to figure out where she was. "What happened?"

"You've been unconscious for about twenty-four hours. Don't you remember?"

"I… remember we were at the Oriental and …" She suddenly jerked in his arms, her eyes flying wide open with alarm. "Morgan… oh, God. Please tell me he's alive."

Before he could answer she began to climb out of bed. Doc quickly wrapped his arm around her waist and held her fast. "He's fine. Morgan's fine. You saved him." The tone of his voice was as soothing as his words. He loosened his hold when she began to relax against him.

She lay back down and sighed with relief. "I almost lost him, John. It was so close. If it hadn't been for my mother…"

Alex's causal reference to seeing her dead parents on the other side sparked his interest. "Your mother… Did you really see your mother on the other side?"

She nodded. "I wanted to stay, but she said it wasn't my time. She pushed me, and right before I fell I grabbed Morgan." She paused and thought for a moment. "That's all I remember until I woke up here."

_The exact same story Morgan related_, he thought. But he wouldn't tell her that, at least not now. Her entire experience left him feeling very excited and at the same time completely unsure. He was thrilled to hear about the afterlife and that your loved ones are there waiting for you on the other side. The uncertainty he felt was due to his own anorexic spirituality. He had let his faith fall by the wayside, and with it, possibly, his soul.

But these metaphysical thoughts could wait for another day. At the moment all he cared about was the woman in his bed and how bright and clear her eyes were as they stared back at him. He leaned in to kiss her tenderly before trailing his lips across her brow. "I've never been so frighten. Alex you physically took on Morgan's gunshot wound. There was blood pouring from a wound in your back. Did this ever happen before?"

She shook her head. "I've never healed anyone so close to death. Not even you were that bad off."

"Don't you ever do that again." He ordered firmly.

She nodded, yawned and snuggled against him. "Still tired, darlin?" He asked.

"I guess I still need to rest. Can we sleep a little?"

He stretched out and hugged her to his body. "Gladly, as long as you wake up."

Her head found a place on his shoulder while her arm draped across his chest. "If only we could stay like this." She sighed, and was soon fast asleep


	56. The Plan

**Chapter 55 – The Plan**

Well, what's the verdict?"

It was nightfall, and Alex sat at the small dinning table with the remains of the evening meal laid out before her. Empty dishes filled just about every square inch of the surface. Doc sat next to her, hovering like a protective mother hen. He hadn't let her out of his sight since she woke up. He even insisted on accompanying her when she bathed. Something Alex had complained about at first… until he showed her the benefits of sharing a bath. An hour later they were both cleaned up and had joined the others for a hot meal served in the room.

She was finally feeling fit now that she had eaten. The fatigue that threatened to overwhelm her earlier had faded, leaving behind a renewed strength she hadn't felt since leaving the year 2002.

Morgan was the first to approach her after she emerged from the bathroom with Doc in tow. The emotion that was clearly displayed on his face had the others transfixed as they waited to hear what he had to say. For just a moment, it looked as if the youngest Earp was going to embrace Alex, but instead he merely grasped her hand and stared at her. After a few more intense seconds he finally asked, "It was real, wasn't it?"

Alex only nodded, squeezed his hand harder and then released him.

He nodded as he considered this information. "It's something I will never forget, Alex. I've always wondered what was out there… and now I know. But honestly, I hope it will be a long time before we both see it again."

Alex gave him a weak smile as she swallowed hard the lump of emotion stuck in her throat. One part of her wanted very badly to see her parents again, and waiting wasn't one of her best traits. But on the other hand, the entire experience had left her shaken. This gift she possessed had limits, and she had come very close to stepping over that boundary. Her visit to the other side had been more extended than Morgan's. It was true that her contact with her parents had been limited. There was a kind of barrier that had remained in effect that wouldn't allow her to touch her mother, but Alex had noticed that her mother had been able to breech the gateway when she gave her that final push.

Her visit with Malachi was a different matter. She had no doubt whatsoever that she been allowed to have a final farewell with her husband. Malachi had taken advantage of her comatose state and called to her while her spirit hovered between two worlds, but the reason for his visit was not to give her one last parting kiss. He had called her to specifically to give her the means to stop his evil counterpart. Somehow Malachi had been watching her from the other side and could see she was in trouble.

A surge of emotion made her eyes tear when she realized that even in death he was still protecting her. Right now she wanted nothing more than to return to the bathroom, lock the door and have a good long cry. But time would not allow her to wallow in her emotions, and if Malachi were alive he would be telling her to hold back her meltdown until after the battle. Alex mentally suppressed her weakness as she turned to give Louisa a comforting hug.

It seemed emotions were high this evening. Morgan's wife was hardly composed at the moment. The pretty blonde shook from head to toe as thanked Alex profusely for saving her husband. Alex did her best to downplay the encounter as she leaned and whispered, "Well, we certainly don't want your baby to grow up not knowing his daddy, now do we?"

Louisa gasped loudly and pulled back to look Alex in the eye. "Good God, how did you know? I haven't told a soul. Not even Morgan knows." She gushed in a low whisper.

A small smirk appeared on Alex's face as she leaned in to whisper, "Never hug a sensitive, Lou. Any physically condition you may have will never be a secret when I'm around. But not to worry, I won't tell a soul. You take your time and tell him when you're ready."

Louisa laughed softly and shook her head. "I should have guessed I wouldn't be able to hide it from you. But seriously Alexis, are you sure you're all right?"

Suddenly a perfect memory of her mother's face appeared out of nowhere. A visual portrait of the moment when she took hold of Alex's hands and pushed her away. Again Alex felt that ever present lump of pain in her chest. So eager it was to break free and turn her into a blubbering mess of tears and sorrow. _No, I'm not all right_, she wanted to scream. _I'm heartbroken with loss, and I miss my parents and my husband terribly. _Alex ignored her inner conflict and smiled back at Lou. "I'm fine. I've had a nice long nap and now I'm ready to take my place again."

Which was partly true. One part of her trauma had ended. Those nagging questions that had been constantly present in the back of her mind were now answered. After thirteen long months of wondering what had happened to Malachi she finally felt at peace with his death. There was closure, and with it came the certainty that after she terminated the demon that had invaded her husband's body she would one day be able to put this entire nightmare behind her. She gave her friend a reassuring smile and turned back to greeting the others in the room.

Doc had filled her in on all that had occurred since her collapse. The news that Malachi had broken past the barrier surrounding the room shocked her. Evidently, her vampire-husband was stronger than she suspected, but his desperation to capture her would also play very well into her new plan.

When he told her about Wyatt she grew concerned. The lawman was pale and still very weak from the lost of blood, but when she offered to help him he adamantly refused, stating that she had been through enough already. But Wyatt's physical condition was only one obstacle he needed to overcome. Emotionally, he wasn't fairing well at all. He was quiet, too quiet, and when the conversation would travel around the group, Wyatt would mentally withdraw inward, as if he was struggling with an unseen enemy. During the evening discussion, Alex watched him carefully. She had seen this look before on victims that had lived through an attack. She had a good idea what was upsetting him. The others contributed his somber mood to his physical condition, but Alex knew it was more than that and at the first opportunity she intended to do something about it.

Doc also noticed a change in his friend. He had tried several times to get the lawman to actively engage during their talk. Wyatt would respond when needed but afterwards he would grow quiet again. After several attempts Doc looked toward Alex with concern. She gave his hand a little squeeze to let him know she too had noticed something was wrong.

When Angel and Spike arrived she finally told everyone about her new plan. The success of her scheme would greatly depend on everyone's cooperation.

"Well?" She asked them again. "Virgil, you, Wyatt and Morgan know the town better then I do. Is the tower suited toward our needs?"

He nodded once while his hand played thoughtfully with his mustache. "It's filled to capacity. Are you sure this will work?"

"It will if we draw them out to the open. We know there's going to be a showdown between us and them, but I want control over where and when it takes place."

"But he's locked in that mountain tighter than a clam, Alex. How are you going to get him out by the tower and away from the center of town?" Morgan asked even though he already had an idea what her answer would be.

She looked down at her hands as she considered how to phrase her answer. "There is only one thing I can think of that will entice Malachi to the point that he'll break cover."

Doc was instantly on his feet, towering over her, his voice rising quickly to a level of authority. "Absolutely not! I won't allow it."

Alex ignored him as she looked toward Angel for an alliance. His lips thinned for only a moment before he nodded his acceptance. "It's a good plan, considering we have just the minimal coverage. If the other Guardians were here, I'd tell you no, but… we can't wait for them, Alex, we're running out of time. If we're going to stage this, then let's do it our way."

"Alexis…" Doc cautioned, "are you out of your mind? It's too dangerous, even for you."

She turned to look at the man who was her biggest motivation and also her biggest hindrance. "It's a good plan."

"But consider the source." He pleaded. "You dreamt the whole thing… what makes you…"

She quickly interrupted is rant. "It was no dream, John. I was there. I saw my husband and got to say goodbye to him. It was as real as my speaking to you now. I could see him, touch him. He explained to me why he did what he did. I'll bet you money that if you read his journal that is exactly what you'll find."

"It was a dream, darling. Are you really willing to get yourself killed over a dream?"

"Yes." She said without hesitation. "Malachi was very good at combat maneuvering. If he says it's a good plan, than I won't disagree with him."

"If what you say is true… and it's a big if… let's keep in mind that this advice is coming from your dead husband."

The harshness of his words caused her to look away. From the other side of the room Allie scolded Doc thoroughly, which did little to calm him down.

"It's a good plan." Alex quietly repeated.

He scoffed at her and walked away, retrieved his tobacco and then returned to the table. "Talk to Father Martin. See what he has to say about this. If he's that important to your plan then he should definitely have a say on how we carry it out."

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, the priest said he would be here right after the evening Mass." Spike relayed. "I bumped into him just before sunrise and he mentioned he planned to check in on Alex."

Alarmed by this news, Alex turned to him and asked, "He isn't bringing a friend with him, is he?"

Spike shrugged and gave her a confused look. "He didn't say."

Alex almost rolled her eyes with irritation but that would have only alerted Doc. She gave Spike a pointed look before she turned to Angel. "In that case, why don't you and Angel stand outside and look out for him."

An exchange of looks was passed between Alex and her two friends that Doc didn't understand. "What friend, Alex? Shouldn't they stay here and help us plan?" Doc asked with confusion.

Finally, her hidden meaning became clear. Angel nodded to Spike as both men stood up to leave. "It's all right. Besides, someone should be standing guard outside. Spike and I will watch over the town while the rest of you formulate a plan. Alex can fill us in on the details later."

They had almost made it to the door when the ruckus broke out and another element of their cover was blown. There was a short knock on the door and then Father Martin opened it a crack to pop his head in. "Alexis," he called, "Fabrizio and I are here."

When he saw the others sitting in the room he opened the door completely and stepped inside. Behind him stood the tall Guardian Alex had met two nights ago. Fabrizio nodded a short greeting to Alex, took one look at Angel and Spike standing in the middle of the room and drew his sais.

Forced to defend himself, Angel deflected the Guardian's blows with a sword he had hidden under his coat. Between the startled cries from Doc and the Earps, there was a series of quick attacks and counter moves before Alex could leap from her chair to stand in front of Angel and protect him with her body.

"Stop!" She cried while raising one hand to signal Fabrizio to cease his attack. "It's not what you think."

From the corner of her eye she saw Doc, Virgil and Morgan move forward to intervene. Doc had pulled his gun free and now had it aimed at Fabrizio's head. "Lower your weapon and stand down." He ordered in a cool, calm voice that made the hair on the back of Alex's neck stand on end.

Fabrizio ignored him as he addressed Alex in Italian. "They are nosferatu!"

Before she could respond he stepped around Alex and prepared to lunge again, but the smooth click of Doc's gun finally held him still. "What the hell is going on Alex?" He snapped.

Alex gave Doc the briefest of glances before addressing Fabrizio in his native tongue. "Yes, I know what they are, but they both have a soul."

He stared at her wide-eyed and lowered his sais. "You are sure?" He asked in English.

While the Guardian hesitated, Morgan and Virgil stepped forward to disarm him. Fabrizio spun his weapons around, and stepped backward toward the door so that he might better defend himself from the multiple threats. He spoke roughly in Italian as he looked at Alex expecting her to control her friends.

"Virgil, Morgan, it's all right." Alex said while holding her position in front of Angel.

"The hell it is." Virgil grumbled.

"He won't relinquish his weapons willingly. It is not the Guardian way. Please step back so he feels less threatened." She waved him backward.

"He feels threatened?" Spike quipped from his position behind Angel.

"Alex, you better start explaining." Doc growled.

She took a deep breath and blurted, "Angel and Spike are vampires who have their souls."

There was complete silence for several heartbeats. Fabrizio sheathed his weapons and looked satisfied by Alex's explanation, but Doc and the Earps were not that easily soothed.

"The hell you say!" Doc bellowed. When Angel started to step forward to further explain he found Doc's gun was swiftly directed at him. "Don't…don't move a muscle." He warned and then turned back to Alex. "Explain this!"

She tried to ignore the rising anger that was clearly displayed on his face before she sighed once and continued, "It's true. Angel and Spike are vampires with souls. With the Guardian's approval I sought their help. Their strength and speed are assets that I needed. They're experienced with battle and have been fighting against evil for a long time now."

"How long exactly?" He growled.

"Over two hundred years." Angel offered.

Doc's eyes widened with disbelief, although the barrel of his gun never wavered from its mark. He glanced quickly at Virgil and Morgan to gather their reaction and saw they were just as stunned as he was.

Finally, a voice of reason spoke up from the only neutral source in the room. "Alexis, this is information you should not have hidden from your friends." Father Martin scolded.

"I'm sorry, but it's not the easiest thing to explain. I figured…" she gestured to Angel and Spike, "we figured it was easier to just sidestep the issue if we could. You're perfectly safe. Angel and Spike mean you no harm, I promise."

Doc gave her another cold look and finally put his gun away. "Alex, you lie so damn well I swear you should have been a lawyer instead of a Guardian."

Several minutes later and everyone had just about calmed down. Wyatt was the only one who remained watchful, and from what Alex could tell, even frightened. Still too weak to stand unaided, Wyatt had remained seated throughout the event, but he had drawn his weapon and positioned the women behind him for protection. Even though Doc had holstered his gun and had reclaimed his sit at the table, Wyatt had left his pistol lying across his lap where it would be readily available. There was a steady tremor in his hand that hovered near the weapon and a fearful look to his eyes that had Alex very worried._ I must straighten him out tonight before he gets worse,_ she thought.

Fabrizio had also noticed the air of unease surrounding the famous lawman. After he was introduced to everyone, he had tossed a comment to Alex in Italian, which she answered as directly as she could. Fabrizio nodded with sympathy, and asked Alex what she had in mind to help. Alex simply suggested that Wyatt still needed to regain his strength and that she expected him to recover.

"Alex, it's not polite to converse in a foreign language in front of mixed company." Doc berated while he helped himself to a second glass of whiskey.

"Not all of us are left in the dark, mate." Spike announced calmly as he claimed the bottle of bourbon when Doc released it. "I speak Italian quite well. Learned it before I died. French as well as Latin and Greek."

Doc gave the Englishman a sideways look and said nothing.

But Spike was not that easily put off. He continued to study Holliday while trying to determine if his new identity had eliminated any possibility for a friendship with the gambler. "So… after tonight, I guess I shouldn't expect an invitation to the wedding. That is of course if you can convince the girl to stay behind."

Despite the situation, Doc had to grin at Spike's attempt at humor. "If you can talk her into staying, I'll make you my best man. That is, if you can enter a church unharmed."

"Oh, that's not a problem. I'm rather fond of churches, actually. I was a devote catholic before I was turned."

"How…," Doc cleared his throat, "how old are you?"

"I was born about the same time as you, which would make me… what a hundred and fifty, give or take a year. I've had all the proper education, just like you, and I even had a mother who was sick with consumption just like you." He stopped his banter as he considered the similarities between himself and Doc. "Gee, now that I think about it, you and I have so much in common I might marry you myself."

"Shut up, Spike." Alex and Angel harmonized.

Alex turned away from Doc and asked the question everyone in the room was waiting to hear. "Fabrizio, when can we expect the other Guardians?"

"Soon, Bella. I am sorry I can't give you a more definitive time."

"I have an idea for an attack but I …" She stopped when Wyatt almost fell out of his chair. Quickly Doc and Josie rushed to his side. "Wyatt, what is it?" Josie asked.

"Just tired I guess. For a moment there I fell asleep."

Alex looked at Doc and when he nodded back she made her move. "Come Wyatt. Doc and I will help you to bed."

"No." He replied weakly. "I'm all right, really."

Alex didn't take no for an answer. She slid one hand under his arm and hauled him to his feet.

"Christ, Alex." He remarked in a surprised tone. "I guess you really are feeling better." He exclaimed while holstering his gun.

"I am. And you will too if you go back to bed and get some more rest. You're not going to miss anything Wyatt. Just a bunch of talk." With Doc's help she managed to get him back into the adjoining room and on to the bed. Josie had followed but when Alex gave Doc a pointed look, he bid Wyatt goodnight and ushered Josie out the door.

Now that she had Wyatt alone she sat next to him on the bed and lightly rested her hand on his leg. "It's going to take a few weeks before you feel like yourself again, Wyatt."

He closed his eyes, sighed loudly and nodded.

"What you've been through… what you're feeling now, has happened to others."

His eyes opened when she said this. He glanced at her briefly and quickly looked away. "I couldn't help myself…it was…" He swallowed hard.

"Pleasurable." She offered.

He continued to avoid her gaze but nodded as a single tear leaked out from under his lashes.

"The same thing happened to me that night at the Oriental." She waited as his blue eyes fixed on her.

He seemed shocked by her admission. "How did you… I mean, did it…"

She cut him off, realizing he wanted to know if she had also climaxed. "It would have if it had gone on longer. It's a common reaction to being bitten. It is part of the allure of the vampire."

"I had no control and it happened so quickly."

"Part of the reaction is your body protecting you from the trauma that can come from fight or flight terror. It's ingrained, something that has stayed with us throughout human evolution. Animals have it. The deer or antelope will experience a sense of calm, even peace while being attacked and killed. If you had died, you would have passed peacefully. The other part of the reaction is the sexuality of the vampire. That is the demon playing with your free will. It wants to entice you. You were unprepared for those feelings and the sensation caught you off guard, but if it should ever happen again, and I'm not saying it will, but if it should you won't be taken by surprised again. You'll be able to stop the sensation from taking you over."

Her explanation seemed to reassure him and to give him some peace of mind. He grasped her hand and held it tightly. "Thank you, Alex."

"I wish I had been there for you Wyatt. I'm sorry. Deeply sorry for what happened. If you want to talk some more let me know, okay?"

Again he nodded and seemed to finally relax. Alex reached up and brushed the hair back from his forehead and watched his eyes slowly close as he drifted off. She slipped her hand from his grasped and drew up the blanket to cover him. He would feel better tomorrow, not only mentally but physically as well. Throughout their talk she had been slowly replenishing his blood supply. After a good night sleep and a hearty breakfast tomorrow, Wyatt would feel more like his old self.

His neck wound she didn't heal for two reasons. One because Wyatt had insisted she not heal him. He had been concerned over her physical well-being. If she had healed the wound in his neck he would know she had gone against his wishes. But the main reason she left the wound alone was because it was his battle scar and he had a right to wear it as proof that he had faced death and survived.

Just as she was closing the door to the adjoining room where Wyatt was sleeping, a firm knock was heard on the main door of the hotel room. Since she was already on her feet she moved to answer, but Doc quickly jumped up from his chair and stopped her. "Careful," he cautioned her, "it could be anyone or anything on the other side of that door."

The look she flashed him spoke volumes about the irritation his statement caused. "I'm not a rookie, John. Besides, its probably just room service to collect the dishes." She replied dryly. When he continued to hover close to her shoulder she added, "But maybe you should stand back just in case I have to swing."

She opened the door just a crack and peeked out at the four men standing in the hall. "Evening, ma'am." The man in front tipped his hat. "We're looking for Wyatt and Virgil Earp."

Having recognized the voice, Doc reached around her and opened the door fully, allowing the men to freely step inside. He beamed a bright smile as he extended his hand in greeting. "Luke, how the hell are you?"

"Doc, good to see you."

Virgil was soon standing alongside her, so Alex stepped back and let the men greet one another. She glanced once at Angel to gage his reaction to the new comers but from the bland look on his face it was hard to tell if he approved or disapproved of their interference.

Alex was not so calm. They had a lot to talk about tonight. Company was not exactly part of her itinerary. Silently she began to count as she worked on controlling her rising temper.

"Darlin," Doc reached back, took hold of her elbow and eased her forward, "allow me to introduce some elite members of what is known as the Dodge City Gang. This is Luke Short, Charlie Bassett, Josh Web and Bat Masterson. Gentlemen, this is Mrs. Malachi McCulloch."

Each man greeted her in turn. Alex gave them the appropriate response before turning to Virgil. "You're in a lot of hot water." She warned.

Virgil ran his hand over his chin and look toward Doc for help. Always the opportunist, Doc smirked a reply and remained silent as he watched Virgil squirm. "Alex, you know we need the help, so Wyatt and I did what we thought was the right thing. Now, if you're going to get mad I wish you'd do it now and then get over it." Virgil replied.

She never got the chance to respond. Morgan came up from behind her to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. "This is a good thing, Alex. You won't find a better group of men to cover your back."

"But…," she stuttered, "it'll be like leading a group of lambs to be slaughtered, Morgan. They have no idea what we're up against."

Charlie Basset stepped forward with hat in hand. "Well, ma'am, that's not exactly true." He raised his sleeve and showed Alex the black circular tattoo underneath.

Stunned into silence, Alex continued to stare at the marking and heard Fabrizio who had remained seated at the table call out a friendly greeting in Italian. "Oh, bloody hell." She mumbled

A half-hour later they all were quietly talking about Alex's plan. A timetable was created and certain tasks were assigned to prepare for the coming fight.

When Dodge City Gang first arrived Alex had been worried that her secrets would be given away. As it turned out, her concerns were baseless. She found that Virgil displayed a tremendous amount of discretion by revealing only the bare facts that were necessary for the new arrivals to understand the conditions in town. He had told them nothing of her gift or where she was from. Only that the man behind their trouble was a former Guardian and her late husband. No other questions were posed or encroached upon her.

Alex was also relieved when Doc simplified things further by introducing Angel and Spike as her very close friends. Apparently, Charlie Basset wasn't experienced enough to recognize a vampire at first glance. She watched Angel and Spike visibly relax when they realized they would not be forced to defend themselves again.

Fabrizio said nothing beyond the introductions. He kept his place beside Father Martin and seemed to prefer remaining silent and yet watchful.

Allie, Josie and Louisa also played the roll of observers. Unlike Alex, they were used to men taking control of any situation. It was even apparent that they expected them to do whatever was necessary to protect and defend them.

Alex wasn't as docile as the other women. She hadn't liked it when Doc and the Earps infiltrated her personal mission. She was now less than thrilled with the room full of nineteenth-century men who were slowly assuming control. But the more things got beyond her control the more Doc's quiet strength soothed her nerves. She stayed seated next to him. Every now and then, he would take her hand in his and give the back it a comforting caress.

Doc was very aware of Alex's inner turmoil. He had picked up on her anger when the Dodge City Gang walked into the room and he knew exactly why she was upset. She was worried that more innocent people were putting themselves in danger by association. After seeing the havoc that Malachi had caused within the last twenty-four hours, Doc was beginning to see how well founded her fears were. But backing down or running away was no longer an option. The demon had made the fight personal by attacking Alex, and his friends. Doc was not accustomed to letting those he cared about stand in harm's way. Alex could kick up as much of a fuss as she wanted to. In the end he was going to get this motherfucker even if it was the last thing he ever did.

After Alex woke up, Doc kept a very close eye on her. While they bathed together he took the liberty of performing a small examination. The mark on her back had completely disappeared, and her heart rate and breathing were quiet normal. Other than being a little weak, she showed no other lingering effects from healing Morgan. As usual, she laughed off his concerns, and joked about his making any excuse to lay his hands on her naked body. He was also amused by her humor, but his smile rapidly faded as he set out to prove how correct her assumptions were.

Now as the minutes turned into hours, Doc's fears from the past day were slowly fading. He wanted no more talk of death, and ghostly visits from dead parents and husbands. Only the future mattered. His hope for a happy future was somewhat more promising now that Luke and the others had arrived. He would feel a site more secure if more Guardians converged on the scene as well. But at least one other Guardian answered the call, but how and when Charlie joined this organization had yet to be revealed. He didn't have to ponder this mystery for very long. His little cook was as curious as he was. He watched with silent amusement as she played hostess and steered the conversation back toward Charlie.

"I've been with them for the past two years, Mrs. McCulloch. I was asked to join when I stumbled on a vampire nest in Leadville. They said my technique in ridding the town of the vermin was unique. Though I don't quite see it that way. I was just using what tools I had at the time."

Doc watched with delight when Alex waved away Charlie's formality and at the same time put him at ease. "Please call me Alex, Mr. Basset. I haven't thought of myself as Mrs. McCulloch in some time now. So, tell me the story. What technique did you use?" She refilled his coffee cup from the fresh pot they had just ordered. Then she nudged the sugar bowl closer to his hand, having noticed that he had a sweet tooth.

Charlie flushed with pride as he dropped five cubes of sugar in his coffee. "Then you must call me Charlie, ma'am." He added. "I found them sleeping in a barn during the day. I couldn't risk burning it down and setting half the town on fire as well, so I hooked up a team of draft horses and pulled the building down around them."

He paused from his tale while they laughed at his originality. "I was approached by the Guardians shortly thereafter. Five months later and I had finished my crash course on slaying."

Alex took a quick glance at Fabrizio and could tell from the crease in his brow that he was just as surprised and concerned over the brief training Charlie had received. He made a little gesture to let her know she should let the matter rest for now, so Alex continued asking about Charlie's history. "It must have been very disturbing to you to find that vampires were real and not a child's tale."

Charlie shook his head. "My mother's family was very superstitious, Mrs. McCul… uh, I mean, Alex. I was raised with all kinds of tales on the supernatural. To tell you the truth, I had more of a chore explaining fact from fiction to my three companions here." He gestured to Bat, Luke and Josh.

"Si," Father Martin agreed, "It is very difficult to introduce the other worldly realm to a nonbeliever. People will easily believe in the Holy Father, but for some reason, believing in his counterpart is not so simple. They are afraid. They only want to hear about goodness. No one wants to hear about the element of evil. That is precisely why evil can exist within our world unnoticed by even the most devout Christian."

There was a general murmur of agreement before Father Martin continued. "Some of my parishioners will scold me when I preach on the devil and how he exists around us, but it is because they refuse to believe that I lecture them on the topic. You can not have light without darkness and unfortunately, visa versa."

"So, your arrival here is a direct response to Father Martin's summons?"

"Yes, ma'am. I hooked up with Bat, Luke and Josh on the train. When they told me that Virgil and Wyatt needed help with some trouble in town, I knew immediately what the trouble was, so I explained things to them, so to speak."

"You didn't happen to see any other Guardians on the train, did you?"

He shook his head. "You know how it is. Can't tell the civilians from our members until they show you their mark."

Alex swallowed back her disappointment before she looked away and at her coffee cup. "I had hoped…" She let her comment linger and die. "Well, I want to thank all of you for coming to our aid and for risking your lives." Alex added, as she humbly looked each man in the eye. "I'm speechless by the display of bravery I see in this room today."

Bat Masterson chuckled softly. "Obviously, Alexis you've never encountered a crew of cattle drovers coming to town to sow their wild oats after several months of living on the trail. Now that is a truly frightening sight for any lawman to face."

The others laughed in agreement, all except for Doc. "Actually, I never perceived socially deprived cowboys as frightening." He cooed while rolling a cigarette. "I always preferred to view them as my bread and butter, easy pickings that they are." He snapped a match and gave Alex a warm wink.

"Doc, watching you in action is also a terrifying." Morgan added.

"Ain't that the truth." Virgil mumbled as he tossed back another shot of whiskey.

Unfazed by their teasing remarks Doc's smile never faltered. "Look on the bright side, Virgil. If I didn't take their money so easily, they'd only spend more time in town now wouldn't they, which would enhance or, God for bid, even prolong your trials and tribulations."

Virgil's face darkened. "Holliday, your point-of-view is…" He stopped and looked at Allie, Louisa, Josie and Alex, "well, since there are ladies present I'll just say your attitude is… original."

Doc's smile only grew brighter. "Coming from you Virgil, I'll take that as a complement. But getting back to the matter at hand," He turned to Bat, "Didn't Turkey Creek Jack Johnson and Texas Jack Vermillion come with you?"

"Uh…, yes they're here."

"Here, where exactly?" Morgan asked with interest.

Bat's face suddenly flushed as he looked at the women and the priest sitting in the room. "They… uh, they decided to take in some of the town sights before reporting for duty." Bat's face turned a darker pink when Alex stifled a giggle with her hand and quickly looked away. "They said they'd report for duty before next sundown."

"Speaking of the sun…" Virgil turned to glance at the early morning sky. "It looks like we survived another night. I say we all turn in to get some shut-eye. There's going to be a lot to do later."

* * *

**A/N: Reveiws are very welcomed! Thanks for reading. See ya in about 2 weeks.  
Bluemousey**


	57. Time

**Chapter 56 – Time **

**Excerpt from Alex's Journal, September 1881, (Day 21, Dawn)**

_Do we miss our dead? You better believe it. I miss mine everyday._

_Two months ago if someone had asked me for my view on life after death I would have given them an incomplete answer. I was not a believer, well, at least until recently I wasn't. Oh, I had hoped there was more to our existence than what I could feel and touch, but I was still an earthbound creature and I had my doubts. Like any other soul, I needed proof that our souls continue after we depart our earthly forms. I just didn't want to get up close and personal with it, at least not yet anyway. But we don't always get what we want or wish for. I found this out when I healed Morgan. More quickly than I realized I was standing on the threshold, balancing really, between two worlds. If the choice had been left to me I would have chosen my parents. There was really no second-guessing involved. I would have stepped through the barrier and stayed happily with my mother and father. I guess Doc would never have understood. Or, maybe he would have, having lost a parent as well. _

_But it wasn't just my life that hung in the balance. Morgan's advancing death had pulled me in, and if I refused to leave, he would have to stay with me. He pulled me in, but only I could pull us both out. It was my mother who actually made the decision for both of us. And when I fell I hung onto Morgan for dear life._

_As for my visit with Malachi… well, I can only contribute it to opportunity. He took advantage of my condition, just like his counterpart did, and held my soul in limbo until he could speak to me. I'm not complaining at all. I was very glad to see my husband one last time. It gave me closure. We settled our differences, said our goodbyes and then parted. When he told me I would see him again, I have faith that I will. Until then I will do what he told me to do, and live my life as best as I can. I will try to be happy, and remember how he once loved me._

_Like my transgressions with Doc and Virgil, my healing Morgan was another broken rule, but I'm not sorry for what I have done. My decision to interfere was a direct result of Malachi disrupting the time line. Things are altered, I acknowledge that, but it was Malachi who changed events. I am simply disrupting his scheme. Besides, I will need the Earp's help if I'm going to have any chance of stopping Malachi. They would be of no use to me grieving and broken in spirit as well as body. _

_The battle scene has formed. An imaginary line has been drawn, dividing the town into two sections. One side holds goodness and truth, the other evil. Only two Guardians have answered my call. I am told the others will soon be here. I pray that they arrive today; by tonight it will be too late. Meanwhile, I have a plan, which we will begin to setup after a brief rest. _

_Just lately our meager group has expanded. Virgil and Wyatt Earp have taken it upon themselves to call several of their friends for help. Historians will be pleased to know that the Dodge City Gang has joined our ranks. Including the priest, our total is fifteen. Fifteen apostles against a hundred demons. It isn't nearly enough fighting power to save this town. I fear we are doomed! Even with our well-formed plan, the most we will be able to do is break up the vampire nest and scatter them. Malachi, of course, will have to be destroyed. That will be my job. If our plan is successful, a large number of demons will die tonight. Sadly, I think the same fate awaits my friends and me. _

_Dearest Arthur, if my journal should find its way into your hands try not to judge my actions here too harshly. I did what I thought was the right thing to do. I am sorry that history has been altered, but I cannot be remorseful for my part in changing it. If given the chance, I would do it all again exactly the same way. _

_Please carry out my last wishes for me, Arthur. I know that I can trust you better than anyone. _

Alex set the pen down and reached up to rub her stiff neck. She had said all there was to say. If she were to write any more she would only be filling up the pages with useless words. The meat and potatoes of her time spent in 1881 was already written. On the heels of that final reflection, she stood up and walked to the window and looked out. All she saw was stillness. _No news was good news,_ she thought. She glanced over her shoulder at the closed bedroom door. What was keeping Doc? With a few well-chosen words he had dismissed her by suggesting she go to bed. When she gave him an inquiring look, he admitted that he wanted a few words alone with his friends before he joined her. Not wanting to make a scene she complied. She didn't like it, but she did as he requested anyway.

Still irritated by his old-fashioned mannerisms, she shook her head and turned back toward the window to continue her observation. Her entire attitude involving Doc and her place within the relationship was ironic. If circumstance should allow her to stay with him, she would have to get use to a man telling her what to do, and yet here she was stewing about him politely asking her to leave the room. It was a prime example of that old saying,_ 'be careful what you wish for'_.

When she heard the bedroom door open followed by the lock engaging, Alex breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't long after that when she felt the first trembling caress of his hand sweep across the back of her neck brushing away all her worries and cares of the day.

The conference had ended at the first break of day. Each member returned to his or her room to take what rest was available. Josie joined Wyatt in Doc's adjoining room. Virgil and Morgan took their wives to Wyatt's rooms down the hall. Angel and Spike went back to their room and Father Martin and Fabrizio returned to the church.

Charlie, Luke, Bat and Josh had acquired accommodations at the hotel at Virgil's request, thinking it would be easier if they all stayed at the same lodgings.

Now that she had some time to reflect she realized how tense she had been all evening long. Her head still buzzed from the conversation, but the most disturbing discomfort was the queasy feeling of fear that had lodged itself in her stomach. The bundle of nerves was so twisted and tangled she wasn't sure if her trepidation was for her own well-being, or if it was for the men who had formed an alliance with her. More than likely it was a combination of both.

But her concerns were soon displaced by the presence of the man who stood behind her. As she gazed out the window onto the quiet streets below, she felt the warmth of his body seep through her clothing and soak into her skin. His smooth fingers were gently stirring the fine hair on the back of her neck, triggering every nerve in her system to light up and come alive.

"Any activity on the street?" He asked while rapping a loose curl around his finger. He pulled his finger free and watched the golden corkscrew dangle lightly across her ear. When she briefly shook her head the curl bounced around.

"What are you planning, John?"

"Planning?" He asked with an air of innocence.

"You wanted me out of the room for a reason. Why?" Her tone was calm but with an edge of annoyance trailing not far behind.

He sighed heavily, making the curl wave in reply. "Virgil wanted to discuss a last resort plan."

Alex shifted her gaze from the street below to the image of Doc reflected against the window.

He returned her look as he answered. "In the event that our little army is overcome, and you have to agree that is very probable, Virgil was thinking of setting the town on fire in hopes of flushing the vampires out and leaving them only the mountain to hide in. If we can trap them inside the mountain it will give us the time we need for the other Guardians to arrive." Calmly he continued to watch her face in the glass as he waited for her reaction.

She averted her eyes while she thought over the pros and cons of Virgil's idea. Just the idea of burning the town made her grimace, but she had to agree with Doc's probabilities, their chances were very slim of winning the battle. Reluctantly she nodded her approval. "I wouldn't have suggested such a radical scheme, but it's a good plan none the less."

"We realize it would be an extreme action. Virgil's the sheriff and only he could make that call. He didn't want you to feel responsible, but he needed to get our opinion on the matter which is why I asked you to leave the room."

She sighed with fatigue. "And you agree with him?"

"Yes." He watched as she rubbed her weary eyes. The events of the evening were barreling down on her. Doc realized it was time to change the subject and talk of other things. "I hope you're not mad, darlin, it would be disappointing if an argument ensued." He bent down close to her ear to whisper, "I'm eager to spend some quality time with you."

A shudder coursed through her when he lightly trailed the very ends of his nails along the tops of her shoulders and down the length of her arms. He entwined his fingers with hers only briefly before skimming back up her arms to then sweep across the tips of her breasts. Alex's breath hitched in her throat when Doc circled around both nipples once, then twice more, before returning to caress her neck again. He reached up and removed the pins and ties from her hair, tossed them on a nearby table and then sunk his fingers deep into her tresses to massage her scalp.

Alex let out a groan of gratitude that suddenly turned into one of passion when he started to nibble on her neck. When she reached up to stroke the back of his head the light contact seemed to set him off and he suddenly wrapped his arms around the front of her body and held her tight. She heard him inhale deeply as he buried his face into her hair. After a moment he straightened, took her hand and led her to the bed. She watched his face as he unfastened the buttons down the front of her blouse, memorizing every line, every contour she found there. Even with his new founded health he still carried the appearance of being frail and thin, but with time that would soon fade.

_Time?_ That was the ten million dollar question now wasn't it. By this time tomorrow would he still be alive? Just the thought alone made her feel physically sick. What if John should die after everything he had been through? His blood would be on her hands and consequently her guilt would be unbearable. She wanted him to have a full and happy life, not dying in a battle on her behalf. Without warning tears blurred her vision. Before he could notice she reached around his neck and kissed him.

The warmth of his mouth took her by surprise. She had no idea why. How many times had he kissed over the last few weeks? How many times had she thought about his kisses, even dreamt about them? Yet each time his lips met hers it seemed like the first time. She still felt that crazy little thrill in the pit of her stomach at the first touch of his mouth as if she were seated on a roller coaster, flying at neck breaking speed before cresting the hill and dropping to the bottom. The sensation would only continue to grow the deeper his kiss became until her knees felt like rubber and the flesh between her legs turned into hot wax.

She pushed the hair off his forehead, raking her nails deep into his scalp. John groaned in response and bit her lower lip while his hand slipped effortlessly into her open top and closed around one breast. His kiss slowed, became heady and timeless. The stir he had created in her stomach instantly began to simmer, dissolving her bones. Just as she felt her knees begin to buckle his arms came around her, holding her upright as he molded her form against his body.

She could feel everything, every curve, every muscle, and every hard budge in his body. It was a very prominent budge that he pressed urgently against her now, even sliding his one hand down the length of her back to cup her ass so that he could angle her body better to press against his. Three fingers of that hand slid further between her cheeks, to seek her most intimate areas and press against them.

She responded just the way he wanted her to, moaning deep in the back of her throat, digging her fingers into his shoulders. Suspended, she hung there, trapped effortlessly by the desire of her body and the longing in her heart. The need she felt to be one with him was stronger than any she had ever experienced. Was it fear of the coming battle that made her want him so badly? Or was the sadness that was slowly seeping into her soul making her too needy? Either way the situation was beyond her control. He didn't care enough for her to reveal what was in his heart, and her time here was too short to make him love her, if such a thing was even possible. If John had any feelings for her at all he would have to tell her soon, after sundown she could be walking into certain death, surely he had to understand this as well as she did.

Her last chance, that's what it was really. This moment, this time with him, was all she would ever have. It was this realization that stirred the bottomless pit of tears she seemed to carry with her since the beginning of their affair. By this time tomorrow her mission would be over, that was true. But how would it end, with her death, or John's… or, God willing, Malachi's? Even if they were victorious she would still have to leave him. Whichever way the pendulum swung the outcome would leave her in tears. But she was wasting time worrying about the future. What was important was the present. What was important was the man standing before her and the remaining time she had with him.

If Doc was aware of her inner turmoil he never let on while he painstakingly, slowly, nibbled and sucked the exposed skin on her neck. His lips found her ear, and he paused long enough to whisper sensual words of longing before taking her mouth once more. The grip he held on her body only tightened; the palms of his hands sliding freely over her back in a soothing manner before coming to a rest on her bottom again.

After mauling over the conflicts in her head and slowly succumbing to the urges of her body, Alex needed very little encouragement to live in the moment. She reached for him, sliding her hand down between their bodies to cup him. The hard length of his arousal was bigger than her hand, but this did not surprise her. She had felt him before, had even dreamt of touching him just like this. The palm of her hand traveled slowly over the fine fabric of his pants to slip effortlessly between his legs before making the journey upwards again.

Doc shuddered and pressed against her harder, a soft groan stirring in the back of his throat. Alex took his reaction as a positive one and proceeded to flick open the first button on his pants, but he quickly stopped her. "Touch me." He pleaded in a breathless whisper as he guided her hand back to where he needed it the most.

Captivated, she watched their hands slide together down the front of his slacks. The image was so much like the dream she had it unnerved her and excited her at the same time. She raised her eyes to seek his face just like she had in the dream and found him watching her intently. He never took his eyes off her as he led their hands upward before descending once again. This time he held her there between his legs letting her feel the weight and size of his sack. When he rocked gently against her hand, Alex thought she'd go insane from the shock of desire that shot through her body, and all the while he continued to gaze at her face, watching her expression, observing the stirring emotions in her eyes, holding her fixated.

Finally, he dipped his head to taste the skin on her neck again and to flick the tip of his tongue over her earlobe. When he started the ascent of their hands once more he whispered, "I once had an erotic dream about you touching me just like this." Before she could respond he kissed her briefly and then continued, "But this…" He continued while pressing hard against the palm of her hand, "is so much better."

What he was saying was impossible, wasn't it? Alex tried to think, tried to respond, but he was slipping his hand inside her blouse again and began to play with her breasts, lifting the warm globes to rest in the palm of his hand, testing their weight before flicking his thumb over her hard nipples. "Tell me more. She gasped softly when he pinched her sharply. _Who, exactly, is supposed to be seducing whom? _She wondered

"Tell you more… of what?" Carefully, gently, he began to peal her blouse off her shoulders. Once he had one shoulder bare, he proceeded to taste the warm skin he found there, sucking deeply, lathering her fragrant skin with his own scent until the two merged and became reborn.

"Hmmm," Alex rolled her head to the side to give him better access, "that's nice." She purred as she sank her fingers into his soft hair. "Your dream, tell me about it." She needed to hear more about his vision, the details of his seduction where too uncanny to ignore.

He laughed warmly. "I can do better than tell you." He lifted her quickly and laid her across the bed. "I'm going to show you."

Still overwhelmed by the strange coincidence she wanted to determine the exact timeframe of his dream. "When did you have this dream?" She asked while watching him flick open the buttons on her skirt to expose the skin on her stomach.

"Oh, it was…" He bent forward to place several kisses on her navel. "The same night I asked to see you and you said no." He snickered when Alex jumped assuming she was reacting to his teasing caress. "Let's see… in the dream I was drunk and you were not, of course, and I was trying my very best to get you into bed, but you were being difficult, as usual."

"Did you succeed?"

"Yes, I did, actually" He replied with just a hint of male satisfaction in his voice. He was hard at work peeling her skirt down her hips and didn't look up as he spoke. "Woke up with wet sheets after one of the best orgasms I have ever had. Well… at least until I experienced the real thing." He chuckled warmly and bent once more to taste her.

"This is impossible."

"What's impossible?"

She hadn't realized she'd spoken aloud. There was a tremor running through her veins and it had nothing to do with the sensual caresses she was receiving. How could such a thing be true? Had their mutual desire evolved into identical dreams? And if it did, what could it mean?

"Darlin?"

His subtle prodding stirred her from her thoughts. She turned to look at him and found him starring down at her intently. His hair was falling in his face again and through the thick blonde locks, soft blue eyes, gazed back at her with an expression she could almost call love. She knew it was an allusion created by the longing in her heart, but what did it matter now whether he loved her or not. If she had the choice she wouldn't change a damn thing. Every step, every movement she made since arriving to this era, she would make again if it would bring her back to exactly where she was now.

Her arms reached for him and pulled him in close. "I had the same dream… the same desire for you. I wanted you so badly, and yet… I felt that hiding my feelings was the right thing to do so as to not alter the future. But none of that matters now." With one sweep she lifted the hair from his face. "I'm drunk, John. Drunk on you, and on what I feel when you're near." She tasted his mouth, his chin and then finally his eyes. "I love you, John Holliday." When he tried to respond she placed her fingertips on his lips to stop him. "I don't know how things will end this time tomorrow. But either way I… I wanted to say it. I want you to know how I feel."

His old personal friend, pain suddenly returned to his chest and choked his airway. _She's telling me goodbye,_ he realized. Tears brought on by anger and fear of losing her burned the back of his eyes making it hard to focus on her face. He blinked quickly to clear the distortion. "Alex, listen to me…" His voice held a tone that was a mixture of anger and a whopping dose of male authority. He placed one hand on either side of her face and looked hard into her eyes. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you, or to any of our friends. We're going to beat this son of a bitch, and when things are over you and I are going to fight some more about your pigheaded, stubborn, Yankee reasons for not staying with me. Do I make myself clear?"

His commanding attitude only made her laugh. "Yes, John." She replied with mock feminine meekness.

He raised one eyebrow at her insolent attitude. "Are you questioning my ability to keep you safe and sound, Miss. Montgomery? Perhaps I need to be more assertive and demonstrate my male authority. Or as you would say, my pseudo-macho Victorian crap."

Again he made her laugh, chasing away her fear and anxiety about the coming battle. "A demonstration? I would welcome a demonstration, Mr. Holliday. I would welcome it very much indeed."

Her skirt, stockings and shoes were quickly discarded and dumped unceremoniously on the floor by the bed. John was busy skimming the palms of his hands over the smooth surface of her stomach. Up they flowed, raising the cotton camisole she wore to expose her breasts so that he could gently caress her. The contrasting temperature between the cool air hitting her skin and the warmth of his hands was slowly pushing her to the limits of her restraint. To add to her torment he would periodically rub his thumbs back and forth across her already sensitive nipples. Her hold on reality suddenly let go when he took one hard nub in his mouth and sucked gently. An electric shock of pleasure traveled from her nipple to the wet flesh between her legs. She cried out and jerked her hips upward, her hand unconsciously finding a hold on his head. John answered her need by slipping his hand under the edge of her underwear, down between her legs and sank two fingers into the tight curls he found there. Through the waves of ecstasy that were rippling through her, she heard him issue a masculine groan of approval.

The strength of her climax surprised her. At some point she must have screamed because when she finally returned to her senses she found his hand clamped firmly over her mouth. When she bit him soundly he laughed.

"I believe you liked my demonstrate, Miss Montgomery." He crowed.

Alex was still trying to calm her racing pulse. "Oh, God." She gasped. "Another exhibit like that and I'm done for."

He leaned in to kiss her. "Prepare yourself, darlin," he whispered in her ear, "I'm not done with you yet."

His hands reached for her shoulders to push her blouse down her arms before returning to her back, digging into the tight muscles he found there, breaking the knots and easing her tension. The camisole was just as easily disposed of. In turn, Alex helped him remove his clothing. The first contact of her warm naked body pressed against his always gave him tremendous satisfaction. Nothing in the world was as comforting and yet so sexual as the sensation of skin pressed against skin. He needed to be comforted tonight, to receive it and to give it in return. These precious moments with her should be exceptional and memorable for it may be the last intimate encounter he will ever have. What worried him more, was tonight may be Alex's last as well.

Doc didn't have to wonder what was going through her head. The very same thoughts, the very same fears were racing through his mind as well. Even though he managed to conceal his apprehension from Alex, he was still frightened, more frightened then he had ever been. He would be lying if he said he wasn't worried about his own well being. This would be the first confrontation he had ever faced where death wasn't his prime objective. This new sense of health he felt made injury or death a terrifying thought. But all the vitality he was experiencing would mean nothing if Alex was struck down. What good is life when all those you love are dead?

Should he tell her how he felt? To confess, like she had done, so that his conscious would be clean, and if death should make his introduction tonight he would at least leave this earth having shared his heart with someone special. He looked down at her and marveled at the vision she presented him. Loose blonde hair, flushed face, naked breasts, God, would he every tire of seeing her like this? And wasn't her smile for him only? The passion and heat he saw displayed in her eyes was for his benefit and no other. "Alex," He spoke before he realized he had formed a deliberate thought, his voice sounding coarse and strange to his ears. He cleared his throat and started again. "Alex, about tonight…"

She stopped him with a light touch of her fingers to his lips. "Shhh…" she hushed him, "I don't want to talk or think about tonight. All I want is you, right here, right now." Delicately, she slipped the tips of her fingers in his mouth and when he suckled against them she felt the sensation carry all the way to her groin. "Make love to me, John." She whispered.

How could he ignore such a plea? Her request stirred him more than a thousand caresses. Any concerns, any fears he had, quickly vanished when he kissed her. There was only one thought, one desire in his mind, he would do as she asked and he would make sure it surpassed anything they had previously experienced together. Rather than tell her of the love he held in his heart, he would show her. Surely, that would speak louder than words.

Alexis held her breath, her heart pounding so loudly in her ears she could barely hear the murmurs of pleasure Doc was crooning to her. She didn't want him thinking about death. During her years of training at the Guardian fort in Rome, she had learned many things. Fighting techniques and demonology were just the tip of the iceberg. Proper state of mind and focused energy were also instructed. She had interpreted Doc's nervousness as apprehension for his own well being, not realizing there was more on his mind then death. When he started to confess his fears about the coming fight she only wanted to chase away his negative thoughts by replacing them with positive ones. Sexual bonding was one way to accomplish this. Mediation is another, but there wasn't enough time to teach him how to envision optimistic thoughts. She would have found the circumstance ironic if she had known just how close she came to hearing Doc's admission of love, and in the end it was her own interference that destroyed the moment.

Doc thought he was doing a very good job of expressing his feelings for the woman who shared his bed and his heart. He moved over her slowly, loving every inch of her body that he could. No area was left untouched, un-probed or un-kissed. With every caress he mentally implanted his declaration of love. He tasted everything including her nether region that sent her into exquisite cries of pleasure. When he felt she was ready, and only after she begged him sufficiently to end her torment, he made his final move. But instead of mounting her he rolled over, switching their positions so that she now straddled his hips. From this perspective she would have more control over their lovemaking, and he would have the benefit of seeing every expression on her face.

A sense of empowerment suddenly overcame Alex as she braced her palms against his shoulders. Her hands swept downward, over the lean muscles in his chest and stomach; a small laugh escaped her when her fingertips ran playfully down his side and made him flinch. "Are we ticklish, Mr. Holliday?" She crooned while leaning in to plant numerous kisses on his shoulders and neck.

He beamed a devilish smile up at her. "Yes, I am. May I suggest you not start something you don't want me to finish, Alex." He warned.

Alex was just about to respond when sweet feminine laughter was heard from the adjoining bedroom that Wyatt and Josie occupied. She raised one eyebrow at Doc and smirked. "Apparently, you're not the only one being tickled this morning."

"True, but I am the only one who is not getting sexually satisfied." He groused. "Now that you're sitting in the driver's seat, Miss. Montgomery, are you going to let the horses stand ready, or do you intend to drive this stage?"

His tongue-in-cheek humor made her laugh, but instead of fulfilling his request she slid off his hips and down his legs to taste his stomach. Playfully, she stirred the soft hair below his navel with her breath before letting her fingers settle into the dense patch of coarse hair and a very prominent erection. Feminine satisfaction flowed through her when John hitched in his breath at the first touch of her mouth. Gently, slowly, she claimed him, letting the pressure build until his hands twisted into the bed sheets, and just before he crested over the top she released him.

She soothed his ache with a caress of her hand, before traveling up and over his stomach, reaching to place the palm of her hand over his heaving chest and rapidly beating heart. "Alex…" He pleaded. Once more she brought him to her mouth, drawing him in deeply, making him cry out from the sharpness of his need.

Doc couldn't take her teasing anymore. Almost too roughly, he jerked her by the wrist until she lifted her head and then he grabbed her under the arms to position her over his hips. One shift of his hips and he entered her, letting loose a groan of contentment at the same time. "My God, you make me insane, Alex."

She arched her back at the first thrust and issued a soft chuckle. "Shall I drive the stage now?" She lightly quipped.

He took a firm hold of her hips and rocked against her to stop any other reply she might have had. With a strong lead he guided her movements, and all the while he watched her face, loving every aspect he saw there: the way her hair fell across her shoulders, the relaxed curve of her mouth and finally how the little crease between her brows emerged when he stroked her just the right way. He observed the tension building, rising to overtake her senses as he desperately tried to hold his looming climax at bay. Finally, he knew the moment was near when her head bowed, and her hands clasped tightly to his shoulders as a strong spasm shot through her. A sudden flush appeared on her skin and with it a fine sheen of sweat.

He rolled her onto her back, and slid his hands under her ass to angle her pelvis upward. When she crossed her ankles over the small of his back he nearly lost control. Before it was too late he leaned in to kiss her and felt the first pulse of his release hit him, as she simultaneously found her own. He lifted his mouth from hers and answered her call with a broken breathy cry in her ear.

Once their racing hearts had returned to a normal rhythm he held her close. The weight of her head resting on his shoulder and her twining limbs gave him a sense of home that was more soothing then anything he had experienced in years. If anyone had asked him at that precise moment what he wanted from life, he could say with conviction that spending the rest of his days with Alex was all he would ever need or desire.

How many men could boast the same? Very few he would warrant. And yet, he had never been more sure, more satisfied with anyone or anything. This was precisely why he would guard her with his life, no matter what she said. During the battle he intended to stay by her side to make sure she was safe. If he died doing so then his death would at least be an honorable one.

When he entered their room after bidding his friends good rest, he had noticed her journal lying open on the desk. Although he wanted to linger over the book and read what she had written, he only paused long enough to see that her entry was for the benefit of her friend Arthur. She had summed up the proceedings for him, giving him a brief account of the current events. The words, '_we are doomed_' jumped out at him as if she had written the phrase in red ink. Her last instructions were also a shock. But he should have guessed Alex would want to be prepared. Still, it was very disturbing to learn that the person you love more than life itself was preparing to meet her death. What would he do if he lost her?

The ache in his chest was suddenly back,along with it came the hot burning in his eyes. There was only one cure for these sensations and he realized how wrong he had been in not sharing his feelings with Alex like she had done with him. "Alexis," he called softly.

She shifted her head slightly against his shoulder. "Hmm…John?"

"I know I've asked you to marry me but… it has occurred to me that… well, perhaps I should have declared my feelings for you first, and then proposed. I suppose by not doing so my offer might have looked…shallow." He paused for a moment as he waited for her to reply. When she made a small sound of acknowledgement he continued. "I love you, Alex, and when we've overcome all obstacles I'm praying you'll reconsider my offer to stay here with me and be my wife."

He waited on pins and needles for her response. Seconds ticked by turning into minutes and still she said nothing. Finally, when his fear as well as his aggravation made it impossible to stay silent another moment he called out. "Alex, damn it, answer me. Don't be cruel and keep me waiting."

She shifted against his shoulder once more and let out a soft snore.

_She's asleep, _he realized with amazement. Despite the embarrassing situation, Doc chuckled softly. Carefully, he eased her head away from his shoulder and turned to look down at her sleeping form. "Damn you, Alex." He whispered while placing a loving kiss on top of her head. "You really know how to drive a man crazy." Her reply was to roll away from him and snore louder. He continued to find his predicament amusing as he spooned in behind her, sighed loudly with contentment and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

**A/N: Happy Spring! I hope you enjoyed the latest chapter. Leave me a review and let me know your thoughts. See you in about two weeks.**


	58. Everything That I Want

**Chapter 57 – Everything That I Want**

Malachi grinned wildly as he read, for a second time, the short note he had just received. When he was finished he folded the paper and held it tightly in his hand as he looked over at the burnt vampire that the note had been attached to. Alex must have captured this poor unfortunate being right before sunset. The note had been pinned, literally, to his back with a piece of wood. The affliction wasn't meant to kill him, but it did add to the serious injuries the vampire had received while in his wife's company. The combination of a severe beating, the stake, and the short sprint in broad daylight to the safety of their mountain den had almost extinguished the new life he had given the creature. He now resembled a bleeding, burnt lump of meat as he lay on the cavern's dirt floor.

Malachi rested his hand on the pommel of his sword as he approached his wounded comrade. "Well, Antoine my friend, you've gotten yourself in quite a pickle."

The vampire known as Antoine rolled his eyes up toward his maker and groaned with pain. He tried desperately to speak but all that would come out of his broiled vocal cords was a raspy burst of air. Unable to voice his desire, he raised one charcoaled hand toward Malachi beseeching his help as he let his demon façade drop away. What was left under the third degree burns was the image of the man he once was.

Inwardly Malachi grimaced at the agony the vampire must be in. He shook his head slowly as he mauled over the situation. "I surely can't leave you like this. Why, it just won't be the fatherly thing to do." With a sharp smooth movement, he drew his sword and slashed downward making a clean slice through the injured vampire's neck.

For just a moment a shadow of blessed relief was briefly seen on Antoine's face before his body turned to ash.

Satisfied that he had done the right thing, Malachi set his sword back into the sheath and looked once more at the note he still held. _I'm so close._ He raised his head and called loudly, "It's time boys."

Slowly, the room he stood in began to fill up with vampires. He looked around and smiled. They were his brethren, his crewmates, and he was their leader. They were a motley looking lot, but he had trained them well, like he had trained Alex and many other Guardians before her. The Guardian Elders had said training was his true calling, and now that he looked upon the results of his greatest plan he had to agree with them.

Once the room was completely filled he turned in a slow circle as he looked over his dark army. "It's time. Time for us to claim what we have worked so hard for. What you have worked so hard for." He pointed one finger at them. "Don't you deserve a rich reward?"

A low mummer of agreement circulated around the room that pleased Malachi very much. "Then you shall have it, just like I promised. Stick to the plan boys, kill or turn all the others, but let me deal with my wife. No one, and I mean no one, touches her but me." Slowly he eyeballed the group until he felt sure they understood. "By this time tomorrow Tombstone will be ours, and from there we'll invade the Western part of the United States. We'll be like a plague of locus spreading our dark plan outward until our kind bleeds dry the majority of the human race, leaving just enough alive for food. We are superior, stronger then the human cattle that will soon live only to serve us. Keep this goal in your hearts, and remember it as you fight."

There were several sharp eager cries as the crowd geared up for the battle. Malachi spun around several times while eyeballing each and every vampire. He laughed suddenly as the excitement of his plan flushed through him. _We're going to win_, he thought, _and all of this will finally be mine._

With a wide smile plastered on his face he let his human features melt away to reveal the demon inside. "Grab your weapons, boys and gear up. Let's go party."

_Malachi, _

_We need to talk. If you leave my friends unharmed, I'll come with you. Haven't we both changed history enough? _

_Tonight at 9:00 o'clock I'll be waiting for you under the water tower. I'll be alone; I trust you'll be the same. _

_Alexis_

Breakenridge approached and stood at Malachi's shoulder. "It's a trap, Malachi." He said in an even tone as he watched his maker read the short note again.

Malachi refolded the note and slipped it into his pocket. "I know it is, and she knows I won't come alone." He turned to face the only confidant he considered his intellectual equal. "She's ready to fight, Bill and I'm going to give my little girl exactly what she wants. Then… I'm going to drain her dry and make her my wife again. Your job is to take care of the dentist. Keep him busy or kill him outright, I really don't care. Just give me the time I need to finish."

The other vampire nodded. "But what if they have some plan conjured up? How will we…"

Malachi cut him off. "Plan? They don't have enough people to fight against us, let alone form a plan. The timing is perfect. We'll have complete control of the town before any more Guardians arrive. By the time help gets here we'll outnumber the humans five to one."

* * *

Doc followed Alex into the small Catholic Church. Once inside he removed his hat and carefully looked around. It had been years since he last entered a place of worship. He had fallen so far from the path of rectitude that he was almost sure God had given up on him by now.

He watched as Alex dipped two fingers in the bowl of holy water placed near the entrance, and curtsy to the large figure of Christ at the alter as she crossed herself with her wet fingers before proceeding to the front of the building. Catholic customs and traditions were not entirely unknown to him. After all, his first love, Mattie Holliday, was a catholic, but his mother had raised him as a strict Methodist. She had also requested that he follow that doctorate in his adult life, which of course he neglected to do. But if his mother still lived he seriously doubted she would protest too much if he decided to change his faith to Catholic. That is, if he could convenience Alex to stay with him and be his wife. If she left him behind it wouldn't matter what faith he called his own, God and he would no longer be on speaking terms.

In the front of the church, filling the first six rows of pews, sat a sea of black draped men bowed in prayer. Like the Custard's Calvary, the remaining Guardians had arrived in the knick of time. Dressed in everyday clothing, they rode into town on horseback. Both men and beasts were completely dust covered from their long hours on the trail. Straight through the center of town they went and directly to the church where they stayed concealed from prying eyes. Doc quickly counted the number of heads and stopped at nineteen. Nineteen Guardians including Fabrizio, plus fourteen members of their crew, which included the Dodge City Gang, Texas Creek, Turkey Jack, the Earps, Angel, and Spike, Alex and himself, and last but not least, one very devote priest. Altogether, they made an army of thirty-three. It was better than what he hoped, but not enough to make him feel sure they would win this battle.

He followed Alex to the front of the church and as she approached the group all the Guardians stood and turned toward her. One by one, each man greeted her with a formal bow. As Doc watched from several feet back he knew this was more than a sign chivalry, it was a show of respect to Alex and her quest to honor her dead husband. They recognized the trauma she had been through and understood the importance of fulfilling her vow. He couldn't help but wonder if each man in the room had a woman of Alex's caliber to stand by his side through thick and thin. On the heels of that thought, Doc also realized he had no right to claim such a prize as Alex. He might be her lover, but in the eyes of these men she was Malachi's widow and a fellow Guardian.

From behind him, Doc heard the church's front doors open again and in flowed the Earps with their fellow companions. Doc took one last look at Alex and marveled at how well she seemed to blend in with the other members of her order. She wore a similar style of clothing as the other men, although her leather outfit was a bit more polished than what was normal for this era, but her long black cloak would hide the differences well enough. But her ability to fit comfortably among the group of men was more than an outward appearance. There was a self-assured air about the Guardians that could only be contributed to their extensive training. Training that Alex had also received. The sword that hung by her hip as well as the other weapons she draped herself with were as comfortable to her as a lacy opera fan and matching gloves would be to Kate. Inwardly, Doc's heart filled with pride for the woman he loved and then he turned away to join his friends at the back of the church leaving Alex to sit with the other Guardians.

A hush fell over the room as Father Martin took his place at the altar and began his Mass. Outside, the yellow rays of the sun would soon melt into a deep orange when the star finished descending its arc in about an hour. The weak beams of sunlight poured through the church's windows and by chance one ray fell across Alex as she knelt in prayer.

Father Martin looked out over the crowd that occupied his church. Never in all the years that he had served God had he been this privileged to say Mass to such a noble congregation. But not once in all those years had a Mass been this important. It was strange, but he didn't feel the least bit nervous. Nor was he apprehensive about the coming battle. Instead he felt filled to the brim with the Holy Spirit, and with that comfort came the certainty that they would overcome their enemy, thus saving the town. He cleared his throat, raised his chin even higher and began. "In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti." His hand seemed to float through the air of its own accord as he blessed God's army.

As one body, all the Guardians performed the sign of the cross and gave the appropriate reply. "Amen."

Father Martin continued in Latin, the official language of the Catholic Church. "I will go to the altar of God."

"To God, the joy of my youth." The Guardian's replied.

"Do me justice, O God, and fight my fight against an unholy people, rescue me from the wicked and deceitful man." Father Martin cried.

"For Thou, O God, art my strength, why hast Thou forsaken me? And why do I go about in sadness, while the enemy harasses me?"

Father Martin raised his hand high into the air as he beseeched God. "Send forth Thy light and Thy truth: for they have led me and brought me to Thy Holy hill and Thy dwelling place."

"And I will go to the altar of God, to God, the joy of my youth."

On and on the incantations continued in Latin. The priest would first call out his plea and then Guardians would answer back. Only a few members of Doc's group sitting in the back of the church made the appropriate reply in time with the Guardians. Charlie Bassett being one of them. _Probably another reason why they chose him to join up,_ Doc thought. _He's catholic too_.

Although Charlie was branded a Guardian, he chose to remain with his friends from Dodge, feeling that his short association with the catholic organization didn't take precedence over his longer more binding relationships. But he had, however, decided to dress like the other Guardians, lending him the distinction he had earned.

"I shall yet praise Thee upon the harp, O God, my God. Why art thou sad, my soul, and why art thou downcast?"

"Trust in God," the Guardians answered, "for I shall yet praise Him, my Savior, and my God.

"Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit." Father Martin glorified as he made the sign of the cross over the kneeling congregation.

"As it was in the beginning is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen."

The Mass was a short one. Father Martin knew they didn't have the luxury to indulge in a complete service. Time was of the essence, and every minute they lost could make the difference between life and death. The priest held his hand over the congregation. "May Almighty God have mercy on you, forgive you your sins, and bring you to everlasting life.

Again the Guardians crossed themselves. "Amen."

Father Martin then turned to Javier and received a silver cup, lifted the wand within and made the sign of the cross over the Guardians, blessing them with holy water. "May the Almighty and Merciful Lord grant us pardon, and absolution, and remission of our sins." He dipped the wand into the cup several times as he walked down the aisle of the church until he stood directly in front of Doc, the Earps and their friends to bless them with holy water as well.

"Amen." The room replied and this time even Doc joined in.

Earlier, after a very short period of rest, Doc and Alex had worked with the rest of the group to prepare for the coming battle. Everyone had a task to do and everyone knew how important it was to accomplish that task to the exact specifications. Even the Earp women helped prepare. Now that the preparations were complete, Wyatt and his brothers had safely stored their women in the care of Milt who would take a protective position from within the Oriental. The Earps had kissed their tearful sweethearts goodbye and joined up with the Dodge City Gang, Turkey Creek Jack Johnson and Texas Jack Vermillion and proceeded to the church where Alex and Doc were waiting.

Angel and Spike had not been left out of the plans. Since they could not emerge until sunset, they had stayed behind at the hotel and had spent the day sharpening stakes, swords and knifes for the others to use. Angel and Spike had also brought an arsenal of weapons from the twenty first century with them. Now that the time was near to fighting, Angel was carefully sharpening his battle-axe and Spike a short battle sword similar to what the Romans Centurions would have used in the arena. When the sun set they would take up their positions on the battlefield.

As soon as the Mass was over, Doc walked brazenly into the crowd of Guardians to retrieve Alex. He took a dominant position behind her and waited until she had finished her conversation with Fabrizio. Now the tall, handsome Italian was eyeballing him over Alex's head. A small sinful smile gradually emerged on his face as he looked back and forth from Alex to Doc. He said something to Alex in his native language that made her whip her head around to glance at Doc and blush deeply. Briefly she replied to Fabrizio in Italian to which the Guardian issued a short laugh, nodded a greeting to Doc before turning away to address the priest.

"Do I even want to know what that was about?" Doc asked.

Alex felt her face get even hotter as her embarrassment grew. "He was teasing me. He said he could tell from the glow on my face that you and I had spent a memorable day together."

Doc raised one cocky eyebrow at her before tilting her chin upward to closely examine her face. "Yes, there is a pronounced radiance to your skin today, Miss. Montgomery, but I am not surprised by this. In my home town it is well-known that the Holliday men are notorious for pleasuring a woman until it shows on her face."

"Hmm," Alex pondered, "Just _how_ well-known is this rumor, Mr. Holliday?"

"Oh, well, not very well-known… outside of three counties."

Alex reached out and smacked him across the arm. Doc grinned like the devil and replied, "But do not despair, Miss. Montgomery, most of the rumors concern the elder members of my family and only those that are of a marrying mind."

"I am much relieved, Mr. Holliday." She retorted with a dry tone. "But we had better change our topic of conversation. After all, we are standing inside a church and we have both just been blessed. I don't want it to wear off too soon." Her face suddenly took on a serious expression as she reached up to caress Doc's cheek. "Especially for you. I want you to be safe, John. Promise me you'll be careful. Don't make any heroic moves out there."

Doc leaned in and kissed her soundly, before whispering, "I'm sticking with you whether you like it or not. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is going to take me far from your side. We fight together, Alex, do you understand what I'm saying?"

The seriousness of his tone and expression left little doubt to what he meant. He was worried that Malachi would try to separate her from the group, and so he was telling … no, it was more like he was ordering her to stay close to him. She simply nodded, unable to voice her consent because of the lump of emotion that was logged in her throat. Finally, she swallowed roughly. "I'll stay close to you, I promise."

"Good girl. Now let's get into position. The sun will be down soon."

* * *

Seemingly alone in the darkness, Alex kept her back to the large wooden post, one of six such large beams that held the water tower thirty-two feet above the ground, as she stared out into the dark landscape. The tower was a necessity during hot summers months when drought conditions were present. It was also several blocks outside the center of town. From this position the tower was not much of an eyesore, nor was it an obstacle during the numerous town functions that took place on the main streets of Tombstone, and yet the tower was close enough to haul water from if the need should arise.

It was because of this position that Alex chose the water tower as her meeting place with Malachi. The nearby buildings and surrounding trees and shrubs lent perfect coverage for the Guardians to spring from but it was also far enough from most of the populace, keeping them safe for the time being.

Thirty-two feet above her, hidden behind the large structure, she knew Doc also kept a vigil over the dark landscape. His presence made her feel secure and less alone but it also made her nervous. She still didn't like the fact that he was involved in her mess. Any fear she had at the moment was entirely for his wellbeing, and of course for the wellbeing of his friends. _They're now your friends too_, she reminded herself. But that reality didn't make her feel any less nervous. These men were involved because of her; if anyone should die or become injured she would feel responsible. Spike and Angel were a different story. Yes, she would be tremendously hurt if one of them should be killed in this battle, but fighting against evil had become a way of life for them. They knew what the risks were, and yet they were still devoted to the cause.

Thinking of Angel snapped her attention back to the present. Her emotions were making her mind wander. If Angel were standing next to her now he would give her a stern look and remind her to stay focused. So, to keep on her toes she mentally reviewed the strategic positions the members of her army had taken. Doc up above, ready to jump to her rescue at a moment's notice. Hidden in the nearest buildings were the Earps and their Dodge City friends. Several Guardians, including Fabrizio, were spread out through the landscape hiding in the multiple shadows that surrounded the area. Angel and Spike, disguised as Guardians to conceal their nature, were waiting for action across the street. These men were her first line of defense and each one was armed to the teeth.

Several yards back and closer to the center of town, more Guardians waited, hidden in the shadows and ready to jump out at a moment's notice. From the rooftops backing the Guardians below, Josh Web, Turkey Creek Jack Johnson and Texas Jack Vermillion held their position. If the front line should be breached, they would still be in the position to protect and defend the citizens. But that would only be necessary if their secret weapon failed. If the initial line of defense didn't work the way they planned, then the Guardians and the other members of her team would be able to fan out and strike at the vampires with gorilla tactics.

Barricaded in the Oriental was her last defensive play. With the help of Father Martin, Fabrizio, Charlie, and she had spent the better part of the afternoon laying protection spells around many of the public and private dwellings in town with the hope that it would hold off most of the vampire until daylight. They had placed one particularly strong spell around the Oriental were Milt was guarding Allie, Louisa, and Josie. If the battle should take a turn for the worst, Milt had been instructed to evacuate the women and as many of the town folk as he could at the first break of day.

If it came to the point where evacuation was necessary then Virgil's plan would be initiated. Throughout the town they had hidden small kegs of dynamite and whiskey soaked rags. Virgil would light one fuse from one end of town and Milt would light another fuse from the other. Fire would be their weapon. They would burn as many of the devils that they could, and at the same time destroying any form of shelter for the vampires to hide in during the day. Any structure that wasn't destroyed by the flames would be searched during the day. It was a good plan if the scales should tip against them. Her only concern was for Angel and Spike's safety. They would still need to seek shelter from the sun's rays. Hiding in the church was out of the question. It was a holy place and therefore not comfortable for her friends to stay in for long. It would also be filled to the brim with Guardians, members of her team who might not understand her particular friendship with the two vampires. It was Wyatt who finally suggested the use of a covered wagon. It was mobile, so Angel and Spike could be transported during the day and yet it would still protect them from the sun. So, they had prepared a covered wagon for the two vampires to comfortably rest in if necessary and left it safely at one end of town. Standing next to Angel and Spike's get away carriage, they had readied several other wagons with horses to carry as many of the evacuees as possible.

It had been a very busy afternoon but Alex felt comfortable that they had taken as many precautions as possible. She hoped this was enough of a power play. She also hoped they would catch Malachi off guard. With only thirty-three members of her team against what could be hundreds of vampires the odds were slim that victory would be on the side of God. Doc had given her the precise calculation of such odds, but she had dismissed them as mere numbers. Her bets were placed with the heavenly host and the army that it held. She said another silent prayer as she watched one dark shadow grow lighter in form as it slowly emerged from the darkness. Silver eyes soon appeared and grew closer, and closer, before she could distinguish the upturned edges in his expression revealing the smile he gave her.

"Hello, sweetheart." Malachi called in a sensual voice that was more like her husband's tone then she would have liked to remember at the moment. The disturbing timbre of his voice was incidental when compared to the eerie appearance he presented. Not only did he sound like her husband, but he was also dressed like her husband had been before he was dragged off into the dark jungle. Standing before her, garbed from head to toe in Guardian patrolling gear, was the replica of the man she used to love. The purpose of his outfit might have been to unsettle her emotionally, or his motive might also be a simpler one, he was probably more comfortable fighting and killing in that clothing than he would be in normal street clothes. The sword that hung by his side, however, was not a coincidence, it had a purpose and the owner of that weapon had the skill to drive that purpose to completion. It swayed gently with every easy step he took and a chill passed up her spine each time the patchy moonlight reflected off the smooth metal.

"Hello, Mal." She called back as she stepped free from the confines of the tower's beams. "I can't believe you actually came." She was a mere six feet from him now. Close enough to smell his aftershave and to admire the loose breezy way his hair moved in the night air.

A sudden flash of lighting lit the landscape around them and Alex couldn't help but notice how Malachi took the opportunity to quickly look around for any signs of a trap. In the distance thunder followed the lighting, but she could still hear him clearly when he replied, "I would never stand you up Alexis. You're my wife and I love you."

His words hurt her, not because of his meaning behind them, but because she longed to hear that exact phase utter by another. Quickly, she shook of her drifting thoughts and focused on the present. "I'm here to make a deal, and not to talk of love, Malachi." The air shifted around them and his hair suddenly whipped across his face, shielding his expression from her view, reminding her of a recent nightmare she had.

"But I'm here because of love, Alex. I'm here for you. You, my love, _are_ the deal." His voice couldn't have been more moving, or more filled with affection. He held out his hand to her and she saw he still wore his wedding ring. "Alexis, come with me, please." He begged in a tone that made her heart ache for home and things that were familiar. The wind blew his hair the opposite way revealing the painful and desperate expression in his eyes that was clearly illuminated by another flash of lighting.

For the first time since his conversion, Alex wondered if it wouldn't be easier to just go with him. But would she retain enough of her own thoughts and feelings after she was turned into a vampire to convince Malachi to leave the town in peace, or would she just be a greater threat to the well-being of her new friends? Quickly, she pushed these dark thoughts away, and continued to hold on to what little hope she had. She still had her love for Doc to cling to, and like a doctor's Hippocratic oath, she was honor bound to do no harm. When she shook her head he slowly dropped his hand. Alex held up her left hand so he could see she had removed her wedding ring. "I'm a widow now, remember. You died thirteen months ago. I've grieved for you and move on."

He laughed, revealing a set of beautiful human teeth. "With the dentist? Do you really think he is man enough to replace me, to replace what we had together?" Again he held out his hand. "Let me show you a new world." He begged in a beseeching tone that continued to pull at her heart. "A world more alive than any he could _ever_ give you. A world where you'll be forever young, and stronger than you could possibly imagine. A world where you'll be a queen."

A cold tremor passed through her as the meaning of his words took hold in her heart. His twisted plan extended much further than she had ever imagined. She swallowed back her emotions and shook her head at him. "And you the king of this world? Is that what this is all about; you want to rule the world, Malachi? This is not the vision of the man I loved and married. This is a vision born of madness. Madness brought on by your traumatic death and conversion. I can change all that if you'll let me. Give me the chance to restore your soul and then I'll be your wife again. We'll return to our time and live the life we were meant to."

Her powerful offer seemed to take him off guard. He stood transfixed, his expression open and thoughtful as he considered what she said. "And what of children, Alex? I would be a dead thing with a soul entombed for all time, unable to give forth life. Would you give that up for me?"

"Yes!" She practically screamed. The air around her seemed to take on her turbulent emotions. It suddenly crackled and came alive with several rapid bursts of lighting. "I would gladly give it up, if you would leave this town in peace. Please, Malachi, I'm begging you, be my husband again. Come home with me." The words she was uttering had not been premeditated, but there was no way she could have planned them. She knew that Malachi wanted her. That fact became apparent when he attacked the Oriental, but until this moment she had no idea what roll she was to play. She could only imagine Doc's reaction as he secretly listened to their conversation. Would he view her offer as a betrayal, or would he think she was using the moment to her best advantage. She hoped it was the latter. She had no intention of letting Malachi walk free, and giving him back his soul was not an option. She wanted to lower his defenses and when the moment was right… she would strike.

He looked away as he considered her offer, but when he shook his head and looked up at her again she knew his answer was as frightening as the thunder that was growing in volume. "No, Alex," he replied in a calm and final tone, "I like the world I've made, and I like the thing that I've become."

Alex watched his stance abruptly changed as he shifted his weight to balance on both feet. She could tell from the level of his shoulders he was getting ready to attack. She mimicked his posture and prepared for the worst.

Malachi had hoped his simple and direct plea would win her over. He had counted on her longing for the familiar things in her life, like her home with him and the history they had together, in combination with her grief, to undermine her confidence. If he could just slip under her defenses just a little, he might be able to talk her into giving up this mad idea she had about fighting him in battle. In truth, he didn't want to fight her, but she was being stubborn. One small part of him admired her spirit. As he looked back at his wife he saw the women he fell in love with six years ago. Tall, slender, but strong, she was beautiful dressed in black leather, her sword attached to one luscious hip and with her cloak blowing around her. She was his. His beautiful Guardian wife and his heart filled with pride as he watched her place her feet in the proper position to attack. He had taught her everything there was to know about sword fighting. Did she really think she could win a confrontation against him? Well, apparently there was one more lesson he needed to teach her before he subdued her and forced her to drink from a vein in his wrist.

The storm that had been rapidly growing around them began to holler and scream into the night. Malachi looked about at the active lighting falling around them and smiled. "There's a storm coming love," he gave her a silky smile and promptly drew his sword, "and it's going to wash this town clean with blood. If you won't come willingly then I'm going to have to convince you the hard way. After you're converted you'll see things differently. And just for kicks and giggles, I'm going to make sure that damn dentist is your first meal."

Alex stepped back and drew her sword. "Then let's get busy." She sneered.

She had expected Malachi to be stronger as a vampire than he had been while alive. After all, Angel had warned her repeatedly. Spike had even counseled her further by sparring with her several times, but nothing could have prepared her for the intensity of his first blow. She blocked him easy enough, but the force of the strike made her sword arm tingle and her hand weak. He gave her no time to overcome his first thrust. Malachi swung at her again, and again and again. It all happened so fast she didn't have time to think or advance to another maneuver as she desperately tried to defend herself.

Just when she wondered how quick her death was going to be, his ego got the better of him and he paused from his attack to brag. "Are you beginning to see what I mean by strength, Alex? You could be like me and that sword you're holding would feel feather-light right now. Your muscles wouldn't be buzzing with fatigue but revitalized and eager to fight for hours."

_Dear God,_ she wondered, _is he telling me he's going to wear me down until I'm too weak to fight anymore?_ But she didn't have much time to consider this information. From the corner of her eye she saw several dark bodies in motion, as a multitude of vampires converge on the scene.

From his position high up on the water tower, Doc watched with horror, as his nightmare became reality. Alex was clearly struggling to counter Malachi's blows. And just like in his dream he was too far away to help her, nor was he able to come to her aid. His part in the battle was key. If he failed to accomplish his mission all possibilities for victory would be lost. There were too many lives at stake for him to risk abandoning his post. _Be careful, darlin,_ he thought as he took one last look at her small form. It took all of his willpower to turn his attention back to the task at hand. He looked out into the shadowy darkness and waited for the signal that would set him into motion.

Her desperate plea to Malachi had cut Doc to the deepest part of his soul. A sharp pain centered in his chest as the shock of her request became painfully clear. Insignificant, was the first word that popped into his mind. _I'm insignificant,_ he thought, _when compared to the love she has for her lost husband. _At that precise moment his world ceased to exist. But all these heartbreaking feelings were quickly displaced when Alex admitted she would willingly give up her chance for motherhood if Malachi would accompany her back home. _She lying,_ he realized, _and doing a damn good job at it too._ He knew without a doubt, that having children was all she really wanted, and that there would be no way she would give that up for Malachi. Especially after he had ignored her pleas for a more settled life only to betray her in the cruelest way possible. She had been through too much because of Malachi to give up her heart's desire as well. Living without him was something she had already accepted, but living without children she would never accept. _How ironic,_ he mused. He had known her for less than a month and already he understood her heart better than her husband did after several years of marriage.

Malachi's concentration was broken briefly when he notice Alex observing the scene behind him, but there was no need for him to turn around to see what captured her attention, he knew his brethren were beginning to swarm onto the battle scene. He smiled a wicked smile and was just about to make a smart comment when she reached under her cloak and withdrew three darts.

Three speeding missiles of death, each position several feet apart, flew through the air. The two on either side of Malachi easily killed his approaching companions. The third one in the middle would have nailed him through the heart but Malachi quickly brought his sword up and blocked it. There was a soft clunking sound when the dart bounced off the smooth metal and fell to the ground.

He glanced down at the useless weapon lying at his feet and grinned. "Oops." He gushed.

Alex reached under her cloak again and withdrew a long dagger. She held it up for him to see. "Remember this?" Malachi's gleeful face crumbled when he recognized the dagger he had bought her on their honeymoon, and the first step he took toward darkness. "It was the beginning, wasn't it?" She asked. The stunned expression on his face was illuminated in the flashing lighting and she felt her heart harden when she realized she was glad for it, glad to see him wounded like she had been when she first read of his betrayal. When he didn't respond she offered, "It will be your end as well." She quickly stepped forward and came at him again this time with the dagger in her left hand and her sword in her right.

Emotionally, he was unprepared for her attack. She managed to slash at him fast enough to seriously cut him in several places. Blood poured down the front of his shirt and onto the sandy ground. Lightly she stepped around him, making her speed and flexibility her allies. She cut him several more time before he could strike back. Each time she managed to step clear of his striking path before he could counter her move. Each time she came at him she managed to maneuver him closer to where she needed him to be.

Malachi wasn't shaken for very long. His brethren emerging from the darkness in overwhelming numbers was strengthening his resolve. "Look about you Alex. Tell me what you see." He let loose a manic laugh but it was smothered by the rolling thunder.

The air around him took on the fury of the coming storm. Sand and loose vegetation lifted into the air, threatening to obscure her view, but Alex smiled anyway. "I see your vision turning into dust, Malachi."

From out of the darkness arose another dark wave but this wave carried silver swords and the vengeance of God's fury. The Guardians swarmed onto the battle scene like hawks swooping down to catch an evening meal. Several cries suddenly rose up in the night until the singular voices connected to harmonize their arrival. Like a choir, the Guardian's battle cry grew in volume until the air around her seemed to vibrate with the sound. Quickly following their call were gunshots as the Earps and their friends hit their targets. Adding to this music were screams heard over the rolling thunder and crackling lighting, as vampire after vampire imploded into eternity.

Malachi froze in his bewilderment and watched helplessly as his creations died one by one. "No." He squeaked. "This can't be." He turned back toward Alex. "You didn't have time to call for help."

"Wrong again, Mal. You've been wrong for years and just didn't know it. Your vision is flawed. Your mind and heart are sick and weak."

He shook his head at her. Like a lost little boy, helpless tears swarmed in his eyes, and just when he didn't think it could get any worse, the water tower suddenly exploded and a sea of blessed holy water washed over his army. "NOOOOO!" He screamed as he spun helpless about.

Vampires were melting into fiery blobs of flesh as the holy fire of God consumed them. Even the ones not directly splashed by the water were slowly dying because the ground now held the glorified liquid making contact with the wet earth just as deadly. He whipped his head around to glare angrily at Alex; the motion sent his hair flying back off his face giving her a very clear and dark look at her husband's evil twin.

"Oops." Alex taunted before striking at him again.

She drove him backward onto the rim of wet earth. It took Malachi a moment to realize the souls of his feet were beginning to catch fire. A thin but steady stream of smoke was rising from each foot. Bewildered he continued to stare at his feet when the first drops of rain began to fall. The heat in his shoes immediately began to fade. He gave her a cocky grin. "Now what are you going to do sweetheart? You're all out of holy water and we still outnumber you three to one."

His renew assault sent her staggering backward. The back of her heel caught on a large rock and she fell flat on her ass. Malachi laughed again and stabbed his sword downward straight toward her chest. Alex barely had time to roll free. When he came at her again she kicked up catching him below the chin with her foot as she flipped into a backward handstand and landed on her feet again. The blow sent him pivoting backwards. He almost lost his footing before he was able to recover.

From the corner of her eye she saw Doc approaching. He held a shotgun in his hands and when one vampire came close to blocking his path Doc shot him with both barrels. The next demon was firmly poked in the throat with the hot end of the weapon. Then, like a professional soldier he flipped the riffle around and hit Billy Breakenridge in the jaw with the bunt end, shattering bone, cartilage and teeth, with one solid blow. What was left of the vampire fell to the ground as it desperately tried to hold its shattered face together. Doc's stride never faltered. With a flick of his wrist he popped out the used casings and reloaded the gun as more vampires moved into his line of fire. But he was making slow progress toward her and Malachi's assault had taken on a renewed vigor with his rising anger.

The drenching rain was another problem. It was making the ground slippery and hard to fight on. The vampires that had been withering on the ground were now free of pain as the rain washed the holy fire from their skin. Like a plague, more and more of the demons were arriving to fight. They were outnumbered and quickly losing ground.

"We're winning," Malachi echoed her inner fears, "and I'm going to get everything that I want."

* * *

**Thanks for reading. Reviews are very welcomed!  
**


	59. The Blessing

**Chapter 58 – The Blessing**

Wyatt Earp fought like a man possessed. It was raw anger that fueled the ferocious manner in which he killed the enemy. He held a sword in one hand and a long pointed stake in the other, and neither hand was still for very long.

Right after the water tower exploded, Wyatt stormed out of the building where he and his brothers had been waiting. He heard Virgil's shouts of warning but Wyatt ignored them and met the enemy head-on. Before Virgil and Morgan could reach his side, he had already sent five demons back to hell. The more vampires he killed the angrier he became. They had hurt him, had taken his manhood away from him and subdued him in the most humiliating way a man could be restrained. Determined to seek his revenge, he slaughtered as many of them as he possibly could. He was making progress, cutting a path through the swarm like a hot knife passing through butter as one vampire after another perished, and all the while he voiced a cry of outrage into the air.

Dazed by their brother's vengeance, Virgil and Morgan protected Wyatt's back and each other by shooting any demon that came within range. Whenever they could they would finish off the enemy with the wooden stakes they carried in their pockets. They had made it across the street and to the tower easily enough and once they reached the wooden beams that once held the well of water, Wyatt finally stopped his rampage to catch his breath.

Despite the flood of holy water that had killed or seriously injured a majority of the enemy, they were still greatly outnumbered. The torrential rain that was washing away the holy water was just bad luck, but the skilled Guardians fighting on their side was in their favor. Wyatt glanced once at his brothers and knew they were thinking the same thing as they watched the mayhem around them. The Guardians were a force to be reckoned with. The experience they had in fighting the demons was apparent by the rapid bursts of dust flying around their positions within the battle; it was unfortunate that they were so few in number. _If only more Guardians had arrived we might have had a chance,_ Wyatt thought. He looked about for any sign of Alex or Doc and finally caught a glimpse of her several yards away fighting bravely against Malachi. Doc was making his way toward her but his progress was slow. Wyatt tapped Virgil's arm and motioned toward Alex, letting him know they should go help her. Virgil had just nodded in agreement when they saw Malachi suddenly snatch Alex by the arm. The three lawmen began to run to her aid but were abruptly stopped by a group of vampires that began to circle around them.

* * *

Safely hidden inside the Oriental, Milt nervously checked the ammunition in his shotgun for the third time. He kept a careful vigilance over the dark streets from his seat by the front window. Only a single candle illuminated the inside of the saloon. The shadowy darkness made the women he was protecting more nervous, but he didn't want the glare from the light to interfere with his ability to see.

The streets were surprisingly quiet. Apparently, the smallpox scare had done its job. Only a few men walked the wooden boards looking for an evening of fun and frolic. Judging from the thin crowd, it was hardly worth the effort for the saloons to open their doors for the night, but many men required their daily rationing of whiskey and it was those few individuals who patronized the businesses this night. Milt's saloon would not be one of the bars receiving guests this evening. He had locked the backdoor but left the front door ajar, put out all the lights except for a single candle, and placed a closed sign inside the front window. What he hoped to accomplish this evening was too important to be distracted by clientele.

Virgil and Wyatt's explanation of recent events, and their request for help did not come as a surprise to Milt. He knew exactly what he was witnessing the very first evening when Ringo and his crew came storming into the saloon. It was that knowledge that caused him to hide his face in fear behind the bar rather than fight the forces of darkness. His maternal grandmother had been a religious woman but she was also extremely superstitious. To her demons were not only real, they were commonplace. The knowledge of the supernatural's existence had been deeply embedded into her as a young child. In kind, she had passed that information along to Milt's mother and also to Milt. When he was just a child she told him stories not only to entertain him but to educate him as well. He had been only thirteen years old when she passed away, but he still remembered everything she had taught him. _Nosferatu._ That word was a screaming warning the moment he laid eyes on Johnny Ringo's face. Never in all his years had he believed he would one day see a vampire. He nearly lost his water when four of the monsters walked into his saloon. When all hell broke loose, Milt acted on his first impulse and ducked behind the bar. It was only after Alex's surprising arrival when he finally managed to gather his wits and his shotgun. Her show of bravery shamed him into action. It was just unfortunate that most of the fighting was over before he could be of any use, but tonight he was determined to make up for his cowardice by protecting his business partner's women.

He was just reaching to position the boxes of ammunition closer to his chair when a loud explosion nearly made him jump out of his skin. Josie's terrified shriek that soon followed broke what little control he had over his nerves. "Shut her up!" He snapped. "And get down on the floor, things are about to heat up."

Milt saw the first vampire approach the Oriental from the left. It wasn't hard to differentiate between the demons and the humans. The vampires had dropped any and all pretenses, and now wore their true faces. Briefly, he glanced over his shoulder at Allie and gave her the signal to extinguish the candle. The fact that the undead had breached the first line of defense could mean two things: either Alex's secret weapon failed or there were so many demons on the loose they simply slipped around the front lines and were now reeking havoc through the streets of Tombstone. It only took his eyes a moment to adjust to the pitch darkness. He cocked back the hammers on the shotgun and leveled the gun to his shoulder as he waited until his target came within range.

Allie took up her weapon and approached Milt from behind. She motioned to Louisa and Josie to be quiet as she pulled an arrow from the quiver, placed the nock into the bowstring, pulled the arrow back to her chin and waited.

Many years had passed since she last used a bow, but she remembered well the lessons her father had given her on the proper handholds, stance and aim to achieve the best results with the weapon. She had only been fourteen, but she recalled that her aim had been pretty good. She hoped her technique would be just as good at the age of twenty-five.

The idea to use a bow and arrows came to her at the last minute. Thankfully, the Miller's store had what she needed. Virgil laughed at her for a full five minutes when she emerged from the store with the weapon in hand. She didn't care what he thought. Virgil could yuck it up all he wanted. She was going to fight; she was going to do what she could to protect her family and her friends.

Slowly, the first vampire was joined by two more. "Get ready." Milt warned in low voice. He was seated on a wooden stair that he had turned backward so that he could brace his arms on the back of the chair. Allie stood above him and slightly behind his shoulder. When two more demons joined the pack, Milt yelled to Allie to open fire.

Her very first arrow hit her mark. She had purposely aimed for the demon on the outside so as to not scatter the pack but to keep them grouped together. There was a quick explosion of dust that startled the remaining vamps before the entire pack stepped backward. Frantically, they looked around as they tried to determine who was firing at them. Allie drew another arrow, took aim and let another missile fly. A second vamp disintegrated into eternity.

Milt shot at the other three, hitting only two of them. Allie killed the third as it lay on the ground wounded. Before they could finish them off, the remaining two vampires fled into the night.

Milt let out a whoop as he jumped up from his chair, grabbed Allie and spun her around. "Good God, girl, I bet Virgil's ears are burning this very minute. I can't wait to tell him his woman dusted three demons in a row."

"Is it over?" Josie asked in a timid voice. She stood next to Louisa, their hand locked onto one another for support.

"No, it's not." Allie replied as she glanced out the door. "Best reload, Milt." She replied while reaching into her quiver again. "They brought reinforcements this time."

* * *

If someone were to say Spike was having a good time that statement would have been untrue. In actuality, Spike was having a rip-roaring good time. The evening was turning out to be one of the best he ever had. The more outnumbered they became the more his spirits soared. Concealed under long black cloaks, both he and Angel had dressed to match the Guardians fighting around them. Even their weaponry closely resembled what God's army used. The short sword he carried was proving to be very useful, but Spike still preferred the old tried and true fist-to-cuffs. At one point he even dropped the sword just so he could gleefully pummel one demon after another with his hands. With each punch he received and gave, he laughed a little harder. Only when the time was right did he pull free his wooden stake to permanently eliminate his victim.

Angel, who fought by his side, carried his tried and true battle-axe. Watching his mentor extinguish one demon after another with the sharp blade was making him feel lightheaded with exuberance. Spike turned just in time to watch three vamps unite to attack the older vampire. Before Spike to could come to his aid, Angel tossed the axe high into the air. Over and over the weapon flipped as it sailed into the night. Angel turned sideways as two of the demons approached. He extended his arms and from under his cloak a stake shot forward into each hand allowing him to easily stab each monster in the heart. With a snap of his wrists the stakes withdrew back into their slings, and when the battle-axe came down within catching range, Angel easily snatched it from midair, swung it in a wide arc, and beheaded the third vampire.

Spike beamed a bright smile. "God, I love when you do that. Makes me all warm and fuzzy on the inside."

Angel didn't return his complement. His attention was focused beyond Spike's shoulder to where Bat Masterson, and Luke Short were facing a swarm of vampires. The two men were clearly in trouble. "Stop gawking, get your sword, and follow me." He stormed forward slashing out with the axe as he went.

* * *

Before Alex knew what happened Malachi had knocked her dagger out of her hand and now held a death grip on her left wrist. "Alexis, my dear sweet double-crossing wife, I've got something to tell you." He hissed in a low angry voice. "I've had a change of heart. Now that I think about it, I've decided you're not going to be a part of my new world after all. You had your chance, my love, and you've made your decision. Say goodbye to me, Alex." He grinned wildly and squeezed with all of his might.

Alex heard several bones in her wrist snap simultaneously. A wave of white-hot pain exploded from the crushed bone and torn ligaments, traveled up her arm and into her brain. Against her will she cried out as the world around her began to fade from view. From far off she heard Doc scream her name, which brought her back to her senses. She blinked hard and realized she was on her knees. Malachi still held her broken wrist, but her right hand still held her sword. _Well, thank God for that_, came her disconnected thought. She looked up at what was left of her husband, and a sharp wave of grief unexpectedly hit her. Even though the crazed being before could never have been Malachi, he still looked and sounded like her husband. _How can I kill him?_ She wondered briefly. So, instead of striking straight out with her sword, she turned the blade downward and stabbed him through the foot.

The unexpected maneuver took him by surprise. He screamed in pain, immediately released her injured wrist and backhanded her across the face. The blow sent her spiraling backward. She struck the ground hard enough to knock the air from her lungs. A fresh wave of fear rolled through her when he withdrew the blade from his foot and tossed it several feet beyond her reach. Helpless as a fish out of water, she lay there gasping as Malachi approached to make the kill.

Her heart hovered in her throat and beat at a furious pace. _This is it_, she thought, _now I'm going to die. _Time seemed to slow. All at once she became aware of all five of her senses and the input she was receiving. Even though her wrist pulsed with pain, she could also feel the rain pelting her skin, the hard lumpy ground she lay on and the fine grains of sand under her fingertips. The night air carried the grunts and cries from the men fighting in the battle as well as the ringing of rapidly firing guns, the air carried the smell of spilt blood, and in her own mouth she tasted the metallic residue from the split lip he had given her. At this moment she felt more alive then she could ever remember feeling. _Is that what death is,_ she wondered, _life's vibrancy felt to the fullest?_

"Strike true, Malachi." A small prayer escaped her lips as she quickly crossed herself and waited for the inevitable.

He gave her a crazed grin and raised his sword high over her chest, ready at a moment's notice to send her into the next world. "Poor Alex, all alone. Where's your lover to save you?" He taunted.

His comment was meant to make her feel small and abandoned, but it had the opposite affect when Alex suddenly recalled a memory from a recent conversation.

"_He'll look for your fear and defeat once he has you beaten down and that's when he'll strike the fatal blow. When that time comes, use it against him."_

"_I don't see how?"_

"_Look for the dentist and you'll know the time is right."_

She shifted her vision to the area behind Malachi and like an answered prayer she saw her savior approaching with his shotgun carefully hidden under his long coat. "I'm right behind you, Malachi."

Sure of his victory, Malachi made the mistake of taking his eyes off of Alex. His human features faded revealing the demon inside as he turned to face the dentist, eager to send him to hell. "Why, it's the famous Doc Holliday." He mocked. "Tell me Doc, does your desire for my wife stretch beyond this world? Are you ready to join your beloved in the afterlife? To have and to hold till death do you part, or some such nonsense. Lucky for you I'm in a generous mood tonight. I'm going to let her watch while I send you to hell first."

Behind Malachi, Doc saw Alex's small hand signal telling him all he needed to know. He gave the demon a small silky grin, took several more steps forward and whipped the hidden shotgun out from underneath his coat. Tucking the weapon tight against his shoulder he replied coolly, "Blaze away you son of a bitch. You're a daisy if you do," and then he shot Malachi pointblank in the chest with both barrels.

Alex never saw the gun blast. A split second before Doc pulled the trigger she rolled toward her sword, keeping her body tight against the ground to avoid the line of fire. The timing was perfect. Like a ballet, or a coordinated stunt maneuver, Malachi's body flew backward and landed almost on the exact same spot Alex had just occupied. The closeness of the blast made a large hole through the center of the vampire's chest, missing his heart by a half an inch. Even though the blast didn't send Doc's enemy into hell, the wound was serious enough to make the vampire flounder on the muddy ground before struggling to his knees. A fountain of dark-red blood poured from the vampire's mouth before turning into a watered-down pink as it mixed with the rain. Malachi coughed slightly and tried to stand but by then it was too late. Alex had regained her sword and now stood tall and strong behind him. She called his name, and when he turned to look her in the eye she sent the blade sailing through his neck. Malachi's severed head bounced only once on the wet ground before head and body burst into dust.

Shocked at what she had done, Alex stood and looked down as her husband's ashes washed away in the rain. A cry escaped her, rising deep from within her heart to finally voice her grief into the night air. She fell to her knees and tried to gather his remains in her one good hand, but her efforts were futile. The ashes had already washed away and all that remained of Malachi was his wedding ring as it lay sparkling in the Arizona mud.

Doc approached and gently raised her to her feet. There was still a battle raging around them and there was no time to lament in helpless grief. He snapped the shotgun open and reloaded. "Can you fight?" He asked as he kept his eyes on the scene around them. She didn't immediately respond but continued to stare at the ring on the ground. Doc gave her a little shake. "Alex!" He called sharply. "Now is not the time to mourn."

His strong words seemed to revive her. She looked briefly in his eyes and watched the raindrops bounce off the brim of his hat. "You're right of course." Then she bent down, picked up the ring and placed it her pocket before reaching for her sword and dagger. She looked about at the sea of fighting men and demons. They were still greatly outnumbered. She had won her battle but Malachi's death would mean nothing if they lost the war.

* * *

Further back from the main section of the battle, the second defensive team sprang free from their hiding places as the mob of vampires began work their way into town. Six Guardians stood in the center of the road to meet the approaching demons and when they came within range they opened fire on the enemy. Several vampires succumbed from the gunshot wounds, making it easier for the Guardians to deal the killing blow.

From the rooftops Josh Web, Turkey Creek and Jack Johnson dumped buckets of Holy Water on the vampires whenever they came within range. But the blessed water was quickly loosing its strength as the falling rain weakened the potency. Realizing their weapon was rendered useless; they jumped to the ground and joined the Guardians in combat.

* * *

At the first sign of rain, Father Martin panicked. _It will all be for nothing_, he thought as he stepped outside and looked heavenward. _All our hard work and planning. And it had been a good plan too, but the rain would ruin everything._ His anxiety increased until he thought his heart would burst from the strain, and then he came to his senses and got mad. "No!" He said firmly to his apprentice. "I will not let a little thing like rain interfere with God's crusade. Come Javier, bring the cross from the altar and follow me."

He marched back into the church and didn't stop until he made his way through the building and out the back door. Javier ran to the front of the church, grabbed the small silver cross that was used during services and struggled to keep in step with the priest, but Father Martin was walking like a man possessed. After he passed through the back doors of the church, he immediately began to climb the ladder braced against the back wall. Up onto the roof he went, and when he arrived at the front of the church he raised his arms toward the heavens and began the most important prayer of his life.

* * *

The pain in her wrist was finally beginning to fade from a sharp thrust to a dull ache, although the bones were still broken and tender to the touch. Her arm would be useless for at least for an hour. It would be an hour too late.

Doc kept a firm hand on her elbow and with quick steps guided her away from the teaming battleground and to the safety of a neighboring building. With their backs protected by the cabin wall, they were able to search for their friends. "Where are Wyatt, Virgil and Morgan?" She asked before stepping forward to lash out at an advancing vampire. There was a popping sound before his ashes began to wash away in the rain.

Doc looked about but couldn't find Bat or any another other members of the Dodge gang. The teaming rain was obscuring his vision even with the large brimmed hat he wore. He looked over at Alex and wished she had worn better clothing to protect her from the weather, but there was no way they could have know it would rain. The cloak she wore was fine for a cool evening, but now that the wool had become thoroughly soaked, it clung to her body becoming more of a hindrance by weighing down her movements. Without looking back at him she reached for the cord at her throat, gave it a good tug and let the cloak fall to the ground. "You read my mind." Doc said as he eyeballed the rest of the weapons fastened to her leather jacket that had been hidden underneath the cape. "You won't get tangled in the wet fabric now."

Alex was listening to Doc with half an ear. Her attention was focused on the battle around them as she tried to locate her friends. "I don't see them." She marked in a distracted tone.

Doc didn't need her to clarify her comments. He knew exactly what she was thinking. Finally, he spotted Charlie, fighting side-by-side with Fabrizio. "There," he gestured several yards to his right, "I see Fabrizio and Charlie." The older, more experienced Guardian, had joined forces with Charlie in an effort to keep him safe during the battle. It was good that the Guardians were as protective of each other as they were of the innocents they were sworn to safeguard. The two were up against four vampires, but seemed to be holding their own. Charlie wielded his sword with amazing skill and grace that took Doc by surprised considering the small amount of training he had received. _I must get Alex to show me how to fight_, he thought before realizing that she wouldn't be around to show him anything, she would instead be returning to her home. "I still don't see Wyatt and his brothers."

"There." Alex pointed toward the tower with her sword. The Earps brothers had banded together to protect themselves from a group of vampires, and were using the broken tower as a means of shelter. Amazingly, the wooden structure hadn't fallen after Doc blew it up with the dynamite he had placed in strategic places around the well. All six beams were still standing and above that was the crumbled base of the circular bowl that use to house the water. But as the wind increased with the storm's fury, pieces of wood were beginning to fall around the lawmen.

"Come on," she said to Doc as she ran to help her friends, "that tower is going to come down any minute and they're trapped underneath." They came at three of the vampires from behind. Doc shot at two, while Alex dispatched the third before turning to kill another one, giving Wyatt the opportunity to help his brothers dispatch the remaining vampires. Almost at once Wyatt turned to nod his thanks to Doc and Alex.

"Thank us later, Wyatt. This tower is going to come crashing down any minute. Let's get the hell out of here." Doc replied.

Just as they got free, the wooden structure began to fall. They watched what was left of their secret weapon tumble to pieces. "Well," Wyatt sighed, "it was a good plan, at least until the rain started."

"Shit, you'd think God would be on our side and hold off the rain." Virgil groused as he looked out over the battle, turned to kill another vampire before glancing back at Alex. "We're outnumbered Alex. I think it's time to call a retreat."

"Virgil, we got bigger problems." Wyatt warned. "The explosives and powder we placed throughout town will be wet. There's no way we can blow up the town now. Your exit strategy is useless."

Virgil gave him a dark look and cursed.

* * *

Never in his seven years of service, had Fabrizio seen this many vampires working together for a common cause. In the past, he had come across large groups of the demons, usually within a nest, but the number had never been more than twenty grouped together at one time. Tonight was truly exceptional and terrifying. He couldn't kill the monsters fast enough, nor could the novice Guardian at his side and still they were greatly outnumbered.

Fabrizio cursed loudly in Italian and glanced at Charlie. "At the first opportunity, look for a exit. It is long past time for a departure."

"I'm okay," Charlie grunted while sending his sword through the neck of another vampire, "you don't have to worry about me."

"Do not be foolish." Fabrizio hissed. "We are outnumbered and we are also cut off from the others." He looked across the muddy street for any sign of Alexis and found her fighting with the Earps by the ruined water tower. "Try to make your way across the street to the water tower. It is time we made a graceful exit."

* * *

In her heart Alex was also wondering why God had let it rain, consequently washing away the holy water. She had done everything that her husband's spirit had told her to do. He had promised her it would work, but clearly they were losing. Like a bad omen, the rain began to fall even harder, seriously obstructing her view. Any hope she had left dispersed as if it had washed away in the storm. "Dear Lord, help us." She pleaded softly and stepped forward to stop two more vampires heading in their direction.

The first vampire to reach her raised his gun to the level of her heart and cocked back the hammer. "You killed our leader."

Before he could shoot, Doc's rapid firing sent two slugs into his chest. The demon fell to the ground and immediately began to wither in pain, and then smoke began to rise from his body right before his features turned to liquid and melted from his bones. Alex didn't stop to consider this oddity, she was too busy blocking the thrust from the demon's partner, but he too began to scream and all too quickly his body began to disintegrate.

She froze and looked down at what was left of the vampires. Doc stepped in close behind her as he surveyed the scene. "Alex, what's happening?"

She looked around her and noticed for the first time that all the vampires were dying in the same manner. "What the…" She mumbled. "I don't understand. It's almost as if they are being consumed by holy water, but that's not possible, is it?" A sharp crack of lighting, followed by rolling thunder was the answer she received. She looked in the direction of the church, and even though most of the building was blocked from her sight she could still see the top of the roof. "Oh… my… God!" She gasped and quickly crossed herself

Doc took his eyes off the horrendous scene of melting vampires to glance at Alex's face. She was as pale as a ghost, her eyes the size of two saucers. "What is it?" He asked alarmed by her expression.

Alex nodded toward the church. "Look for yourself, John, and be a witness. We asked for help and God heard us."

Doc turned and saw Father Martin standing on top of the church's roof, his arms raised toward the heavens in prayer. Javier stood beside him with the cross held in front of his small body like a shield to ward off evil. Surrounding both men was a strange golden light, as if heaven itself was shining down on them, aiding them in their quest.

"He's blessing the rain." Alex said.


	60. Into The Lion's Den

**Chapter 59 – Into The Lion's Den **

The evil that had almost consumed the town washed away with the storm, removing all traces of its existence. God's fury continued to rain down on them throughout the remaining night. The vampires that managed to find shelter in the neighboring buildings were hunted down and easily destroyed. By dawn the rain had stopped as if heaven knew the miraculous water was no longer needed.

Slowly, what remained of God's army returned to Father Martin's church. When the first rays of the sun hit the chapel, Alex was sitting in the first pew. Her body and mind were so exhausted she could barely muster the strength to look around the room. Wet from head to toe and still nursing a wounded wrist, she watched the growing puddle of water under her feet.

Doc sat quietly beside her with a comforting arm draped around her shoulder. Every so often he would lean over to look at the blank expression on her face as he tried to gage her emotional state. Since returning to the church she hadn't spoken more than a few words. Her quietness was starting to worry him. He watched as she gently rubbed her wrist again. "Is it healing?" He asked.

She nodded and rested her head against his shoulder. "Slowly."

He placed a kiss on top of her wet head before sighing with fatigue. "We should go help Wyatt and his brothers. They will want to see how the women faired under Milt's care. " She nodded in agreement so he slipped out from under her and stood up.

Alex remained seated and continued to stare mindlessly into space. Doc realized her withdrawn expression was more than fatigue. _She's in shock_, he thought. He stooped down in front of her and brushed the wet hair away from her face. "Alex…" He started to ask but the look in her tear-filled eyes stopped him.

"It's over." She whispered. "I kept my promise. My husband is now truly dead." She looked down at her hand and showed him the ring she held. "I have the mate to this back at the hotel. What do I do with them now, John?"

He reached out and gently closed her fingers around the gold ring. "You put them away, Alex, along with the good memories of your marriage, and from time to time you take them out and remember the man he once was."

She swallowed hard as one tear spilled over her lashes and down her cheek. "And the bad memories, what do I do with them?"

Doc reached up and brushed away the glistening drop with his thumb. "You push them away, darlin, and work hard to replace them with good ones." He waited until she was done wrestling with her turbulent thoughts. Finally she nodded once, pocketed the ring before wiping her eyes across the back of her hand. Doc reached into his pocket and pulled out his hanky only to discover it was just as wet as the rest of his clothing.

Alex laughed softly at his predicament. "Come, let's go check on Wyatt, and then we'll go back to the hotel and I'll draw us a hot bath."

They found Wyatt just outside the front doors. He was standing with his eyes focused on the ground surrounded by the Dodge City Gang and his two brothers. At first Alex couldn't tell what held their attention, but as she and Doc got closer she could see the still form of a man lying on the ground at their feet.

Doc immediately pushed his way forward. "Wyatt, what's the matter?" He gasped loudly when he recognized Bat Masterson. "Oh, God. Alex!" He called out as he knelt down to feel for a pulse.

"It's too late, Doc. There's nothing she can do for him now." Wyatt softly.

Doc laid his hand quietly on Bat's chest before he stood up. "Are there any others?" He asked.

Wyatt shook his head. "Not from our group, but… the Guardians lost a few." He shifted his gaze to the left and watched several Guardians carry in their dead and wounded. "Thankfully, none of the town's citizens were killed or injured.

"I have some work to do still." Alex told Doc as she looked over at the wounded men.

He frowned at her statement. "You'll give yourself away, Alexis."

She gave him a subtle shake of her head. "I think I can heal their injuries in such a way that it will not be noticed. The wounds will still be present but will heal faster than normal."

"Go then. I will go with Wyatt and his brothers to check on the Milt and the women. We also have to notify Bat's brother Ed, of his death and make arrangements to send the body home." He turned to look down at Bat once more and sighed. "We'll need a wagon to transport the body."

She placed a comforting hand on his arm and slowly shook her head. "Not just yet. Leave him here." She told him gently. "I'll get Father Martin and one of the Guardians to attend him."

It took him a moment to understand what she was telling him. "You don't think that… that Bat will…"

"We won't know until we examine the body. But there is some bleeding around his neck, we'll want to be sure, Doc." She watched as he rubbed his hand over his mustache and nodded. "I'm sorry about your friend." She told him.

Again he nodded while struggling to blink back tears. "He was a good man and a damn good lawman."

"He wasn't supposed to die now. It looks like I changed history again. Angel isn't going to be happy when he hears about… Oh, bloody hell…" Alex suddenly exclaimed. "I completely forgot about Angel and Spike. Have any of you seen them?"

"They were there when Bat fell." Luke told her. "We got separated after that. That's the last I saw of them."

The worried look on her face faded as suddenly as it appeared. "I can't worry about them now." She looked over at the wounded. "There are others who need me more. I will just have to hope they got out of the rain in time." She turned back to Doc and Wyatt. "Take Bat's body inside and place it on one of the pews. Then go make the necessary arrangements. The Guardian's and I will take good care of him for you, I promise."

"I won't be long, and will return for you when I'm done, Alex. Don't go anywhere." Doc ordered.

She smiled at his domineering attitude before standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. "I'll be fine."

Doc immediately wrapped his arms around her and kissed her fervently, realizing for the first time that she was finally free to be his if only fate would turn in their favor.

* * *

Alex spent two hours helping the Guardians with their injured members. Cautiously, she aided their wounds as best as she could and not draw suspicion. When she was done she went in search of Father Martin and found him with Fabrizio giving last rites to the dead. Among the bodies lay Bat's. Alex noticed immediately the severed cut at Bat's throat. She pushed back the shirt that covered his chest and saw the thin sliver of wood pushed deep into his heart. "Was this necessary?" She asked Fabrizio.

"Yes, Bella." He replied in a solemn voice.

She nodded and quickly lowered the shirt again. _My fault, _she thought. _This man is dead and it's my fault. History has been changed again. _

Doc's comment about notifying Bat's brother, Ed Masterson, was odd. Ed was Bat's older brother, and from what she could remember, Ed died three years ago while employed as a town marshal in Dodge City. But perhaps she was mistaken. Alex made a mental note to check her memory against Angel's. After all, Angel had lived during this time. What was textbook history for her was part of Angel's personal experience.

Laid out next to Bat's body were the remains of five Guardians. Six deaths in all, and considering the multitude of vampires that poured out of the mountain those odds were very good, but that thought didn't make Alex feel any better. From start to finish the battle lasted a little less than an hour, and in that time they lost six lives. It would have been a complete slaughter if Father Martin hadn't pulled a hidden ace out of his sleeve.

Turning to the priest she could feel a slight tremble running through her body when she thought about what he had accomplished. His eyes locked onto hers and Alex saw not holiness in his expression, but a kind of peace and resolution, as if he had known all along that victory was theirs for the taking. Without thinking she knelt at his feet and kissed the back of his hand.

Father Martin scoffed lightly and gestured for her to stand up. "No, Alexis," he said as he slowly shook his head, "your gratitude is appreciated but is not mine for the taking. What happened last night was not my doing. I was merely the vessel." He gestured to the crucifix on the wall. "He was the instrument of power."

"Even so, Father, it was your determination and faith that never gave in. We could never have won without you and Javier." She turned and gave altar boy a wink and then a smile when his face flushed a bright pink.

The priest patted her hand warmly and replied, "When we are done taking care of our wounded and fallen soldiers I will have a Mass to give proper thanks for the miracle that took place in this town."

She choked back the lump of emotion that was threatening to break free and gave the priest her nod of approval. He quickly returned to his duties of giving last rites to the dead as Alex stepped out of his way and turned to address Fabrizio.

"How are you Fabrizio? Any injuries that require attention?"

He flashed her a wicked grin that spoke volumes about the type of attention he would like to receive. "I'm afraid your lover would take great exception if I were to make my requests known to you, Alexis. So, I will only say that I am unharmed in body. In spirit, I envy Dr. Holliday a great deal."

She raised one mocking brow at him. "Please Fabrizio, control yourself. After all, I am a widow."

He smiled lightly, and mumbled an apology in Italian. "You must be relieved to have your nightmare behind you."

"Yes, I am relieved." She felt a sharp spasm of grief when she remembered the wedding ring in her pocket. "Very relieved, and yet my grief is so strong its as if my husband has died all over again."

He nodded silently. "When you go travel back to your time, you must have a memorial service for Malachi to put a sense of closure to your grieving."

Her body visibly startled at the mention of time travel. A sudden wave of lightheadedness made her stagger back a step, and she would have fallen if Fabrizio hadn't grabbed her by the arm.

Alarmed by her reaction, he eased her down into nearest pew and sat next to her. "Do not be distressed, Alexis. That was not my intention, but I felt that it was only right that I make you aware that I discovered your secret." He spoke in a soft soothing voice so that no one would overhear their conversation.

She gazed back at him with wide eyes that shown brightly against her pale skin. "Did Father Martin…."

He shook his head slowly. "No. He did not betray your trust. I made a few inquiries of my own. I received an answer to my telegram yesterday afternoon. Rome has no record of a Malachi and Alexis McCulloch. And as for your friend, Angelus, in this time he is still a demon without a soul and is being closely watched at this very moment as he travels through Europe. My theory was just now confirmed by your reaction."

She looked away from him and issued a short bitter laugh at her own stupidity. "Of course…. I never was much of an actress." She took several deep breaths and turned back to Fabrizio. "Are you going to report me?"

He seemed shocked by her question. He leaned away from her as he studied her carefully. "I… No, Alex I am not going to report you."

She laughed again. "Well, you should. I've lost count of all the rules I've broken since arriving to this time."

"Where are you from, Alex?"

"The year 2002. I followed Malachi here to continue my hunt. I never intended to upset this era. Malachi's evil plot tipped the balance and I just help screw up things more by becoming involved with the Earps and …." She shrugged slightly suggesting that the rest of her story was already well known.

"Your liaison with Dr. Holliday may not have been planned or sought, but the affection between you cannot be denied. I would be more of a monster than the demons we killed last night to disrupt your affair." He shook his head with conviction. "No. I will not report you. I merely wanted to know the truth."

"Alex sighed with relief. "So, now what?"

He issued a small grin and shrugged. "I don't know what your future plans may be, but…" His grin twisted into a lustful gleam. "If you were mine, Bella, I would take you back to the hotel and make love to you until that sadness in your eyes disappeared."

A hot flush rose to her face and Alex quickly looked away. She heard him chuckle softly. "Now that you're your mission if finished, I'm sure Doc Holliday will do exactly that." He added.

She frowned at the thought of final tasks she still needed to complete. "But my mission is not completely done. There are still a few things I need to do. Fabrizio, can you gather five members to accompany me inside that mountain? There may be vampires lingering inside, and I just want to make sure the situation is completely contained. There is also one more small detail I need to take care of."

He gave her a puzzled look but agreed anyway. "Should we wait for Doc Holliday and his friends as well?"

"No. Not this time. What we need to do is for Guardian eyes only."

* * *

The entrance to the mine was not difficult to find. Angel had given her the exact location to the tunnel she should enter, although she knew there was more than one way into the mountain. There was the blocked entrance she found behind the mound of rock that had been excavated and there must be another opening inside the barn that Ringo and his friends had exited from the night they attacked the Oriental. But it was the entrance that Angel had spoken of that she led Fabrizio and five other Guardians to explore.

With lit torches and drawn swords they made their way inside. The passageways were narrow but clean of debris that made walking amazing easy. Taking the lead, Fabrizio cursed softly in Italian and remarked about the odor.

"Yes, it does smell in here." She answered as she followed close behind him.

"Only a large vampire nest reeks of blood like this one does, Alexis. We must proceed with caution. There may still be demons lurking inside."

She silently nodded and turned to glance over her shoulder at the other members of her team. It suddenly occurred to her that this was the first time in more than a year that she had hunted within a unit. It hurt to feel this unity, but at the same time it felt comfortable and warm, like meeting an old friend you hadn't seen in a while.

Three of the Guardians faced toward the front and it was to those three she spoke. "Keep alert." The rugged blond man in front winked at her and gave her a cocky grin. Behind him the other two men who faced front were not so easy. Both men were young, somewhere between twenty and twenty five and both seemed to Alex to be extremely nervous, and rightly so, being inside this den was damn dangerous, but also necessary. Bring up the rear were the last two members and they faced outward, walking backward as they proceeded. It was their job to make sure no vamps snuck up on them from behind.

They walked in silence for several yards and thankfully didn't encounter any hostels. Up ahead the tunnel opened up to a larger chamber. What it contained did not surprise Alex. Her companions were not so composed.

"Mama mia!" Fabrizio turned to gage her reaction. "Alexis, did you know about this?"

"Si, Fabrizio, I knew." She walked over and tipped open the lid to one of the several crates that lined the room. In it was a wealth of rocks lined with veins of silver. She picked up one stone for him to inspect. "This is what my husband was after." She glanced around at the excavating progress Malachi had achieved. It was an extensive project. No wonder there was such a large mound of rocks hidden behind the barn.

She proceeded into an adjoining chamber and found a makeshift sleeping compartment for about thirty or more vampires. There was nothing elaborate about the quarters. Malachi had simply setup a barrack type room for his cohorts to rest in. Crude mats with blankets and pillows lined almost every inch of the floor. Running down the middle was a walkway. Only a few beds showed evidence of any personal possessions. With trepidation she bent down and picked up a small pouch that contained some correspondence and a small-framed picture of a woman sitting with a child on her lap. She suddenly remembered one of the first rules she had learned while in training at the Guardian fort. "They were human once." She vocalized to Fabrizio. "They had families and loved ones." She passed him the small picture before wiping quickly at her eyes. "We need to try to find out who the vampires were so we can notify their next of kin."

He said nothing, knowing full well there was no comfort that can dull the hard sharp edge of truth. He turned to his comrades. "Gather what you find. We will sort it out later at the church."

"Fabrizio," Alex called as she made her way through the room and to the tunnel beyond it, "there is either another sleeping chamber or they must have slept in shifts. We need to keep looking." He motioned for two men to accompany them and for the other three to stay behind and continue their investigation.

The next chamber was also a sleeping chamber, but Alex knew right away that this room was not a community room – it was where Malachi slept. He had taken the time to make the barren-stone room more comfortable. A rug lined the floor and a small tapestry in a western motif hung on the wall by his bed. Next to the sleeping mat were his personal possessions: his shaving kit and cologne, soap and towel, two sets of clean clothing, and a pen and writing tablet to replace the stolen journal. Sitting among the possessions was a framed picture of her likeness. Alex noticed immediately how he had turned the portrait to face the bed, so that he could easily look at the photo when at rest. A small lump of emotion began to build in her chest as she knelt down and carefully gathered his things and placed them in his weapon bag that had been sitting at the end of the bed.

"Bella, I am sorry for your loss." Fabrizio uttered softly as he held the torch high to illuminate the room so she could see.

She sniffed back her tears. "There's been a lot of loss lately, Fabrizio, and my husband was the instigator. I've got no right feeling sorry for myself."

"It was the demon who destroyed those lives, not your husband, Alexis."

She issued a sarcastic laugh. "Do you think the woman and baby in that photo would see it that way?" When he frowned, she got her reply. She searched through the contents of Malachi's bag and found the pendant and map that had sealed his fate. She lifted the items for Fabrizio to see. "We must give these to Father Martin, or perhaps I should destroy them. I could burn them both and hide the ashes deep in salted earth."

She didn't see the troubled look he gave her when she looked away to slipped the items back inside the bag. "What we need to concentrate on is cleaning up the mess Malachi left behind and making sure no vampires survived the fight." Alex added.

He gave her a devilish smile when she finally looked up at him. "I took the liberty of sending out several patrols to hunt the survivors. It is being taken care of even as we speak." He gave her a brotherly pat on the shoulder. "You have spent too much time alone with your burden, Alexis. It has made you forget what it means to fight within a unit."

Before she could reply he changed the subject. "What should we do with all the silver?"

_Bury it with our dead,_ she thought. "We'll leave it for now. I imagine the church will want its share."

"Who do you think owns the right to this mine?"

"Good question." She looked inside Malachi's bag again and found a leather portfolio with papers inside. The first document answered their question. "It appears Malachi purchased the land outright. So…"

"You now own it." He finished for her.

"Maybe. I'll ask Father Martin to look into this. I guess we need to find out if these papers are legitimate and then decide from there." She shouldered Malachi's bag, looked about the small chamber for a moment before nodding to Fabrizio that they should leave. The questions that pledged her mind were now answered. Malachi had indeed found a hidden silver strike. Throughout the sparse years of her marriage he had been secretly consumed with the idea of finding this mine, and all for the sake of acknowledgement and prestige. All because her uncle was a wealthy snob and because she was too stupid to know how upset her husband had been by her relative's well-intended words. _What a fucking mess,_ she thought.

While Fabrizio and Alex were inside the small room, the two Guardians who accompanied them had been investigating the hallway lead deeper into the mine. Suddenly, there was a sharp cry and two gunshot blasts before one lone vampire ran straight into the Guardians. The men made quick work of dispatching the demon, but Alex was more concerned over who had fired the gun. Before they could investigate the other three Guardians quickly approached with their swords drawn and ready for battle.

Fabrizio motioned for them to be quiet as he carefully made his way down the passageway. From out of the darkness she heard her name called loudly. Alex sighed with relief and pushed her way past Fabrizio. "Don't shoot me, Doc." She called when she could see his shadow creep down the path.

When he finally emerged the look on his face was anything but welcoming. Actually, she thought it was down right frightening. But Alex knew better than anyone that the best defensive is a good offense. She stayed several feet beyond his reached and snapped, "What the hell are you doing down here?"

Her plan didn't work. John passed the torch he carried to one of the Guardians, and holstered his weapon. With his jaw set and his lips forming a tight line he closed the distance between them and snatched her roughly by the arm. "Funny you should ask," he replied in a calm voice that made her stomach flutter with unease, "considering I was wondering the same thing about you. Especially since I told you to stay… at…the…church." His last words were punctuated by a few shakes. "Alex, when are you going to start listening to me?"

She beamed a bright smile back up at him. "Probably never, so deal with it." She smacked his hand lightly to let him know he should release her. "How did you get in here?"

"Through the barn, back that way." He jerked his head at the tunnel behind him. "There's a trapdoor in the floor of the building that leads down here. The fiends must have been very eager to escape. They left the door ajar."

"You came down here alone, Senior Holliday?" Fabrizio asked with a slight frown.

"Yes."

Fabrizio raised his brows with alarm. "That was not wise. There could have been…"

"Vampires?" He finished. "Yes, there were two cowering back there. One I killed and the other you got when he ran this way. I didn't see any others."

"Doc, you shouldn't have come. It's dangerous." Alex repeated.

"And it wasn't dangerous for you?" He snapped.

"No, damn it. I brought six men with me. I'm well protected. But you…"

"I'm getting damn tired of you disappearing on me, Alex!" He finally shouted. "Don't do it again!"

She held up her hand to signal her surrender. "All right. No more disappearing. I get it. Now let's get the hell out of here." Doc moved to walk past her to exit the way she came in but Alex quickly stopped him. "No. We've already covered that area. Let's go out the way you came in, through the barn."

He looked beyond her shoulder. "Where does that tunnel lead?"

"Nowhere really," she quickly said, "just to some sleeping chambers the vampires were using." She turned to glance at Fabrizio and intercepted his puzzled look over the lie she told Doc.

"What did you see when you walked through?" Alex asked Doc, hoping to distract him from questioning her further.

"There's a rather large chamber they must have used to store the cows, and probably used to eat there as well. Several cows are still alive, Alex. We should make sure they get out."

The entranceway to the barn was reached by a wooden ladder. Alex felt the prickles of anger again when she thought about Doc climbing down the ladder alone to search for her in the darkness. If he was going to be this foolish she would definitely have to curtail her solitary exploration if only to stop him from indirectly getting himself killed all because he was pissed that she didn't get his permission before she went out. It would be a cumbersome but necessary change in her routine. _At least until you leave stupid. After that it won't matter. _

The fresh air felt good after breathing the rank air in the mine. Alex looked out the open barn doors and noted the position of the sun. It was pass noon, she surmised. She sighed and turned to look around the inside of the barn.

The interior was surprising neat. All the farming equipment was clean and orderly with one wall used to organize most of the hand tools needed to run a farm. On the opposite side of the barn stood a wall of hay bales, which Alex supposed were used to feed the Clanton's horses and cattle. Next to it was a hay wagon, stacked and ready to take bales of hay out to the cattle if needed. The only evidence of life in the barn were two horses and the droppings of what must have been eight or ten more horses that were no longer present. Where those horses were now was another mystery.

Doc walked to the entrance of the building and looked out toward the mountain that sheltered the property. "They dug one hell of a tunnel to reach this barn. I thought it was my imagination that made that causeway seem so long, but it must be about hundred yards or more. Why bother digging this tunnel when they could have walked freely from the caves to this property?"

"Well, sunlight for one. I think Malachi had them moving about underground most of the day. Angel believes he kept most of his recruits locked up underground. Only a certain members were allowed to roam freely above ground. This barn was probably used as a secret entrance and exit."

"Makes sense," he agreed. "How else would you control an army of demons?"

Positioned high over the trap door was a winch and pulley system, she suppose this was used to bring supplies down into the mine. The two doors at either end of the building would allow a wagon to be driven inside, unloaded and then continue out the other door without backing up the team or turning the wagon around. They must have been transporting a lot of supplies for the Clanton's to cut a new backdoor. The winch was constructed from ropes the thickness of her arm and dangled from the barn's wooden beams. When not in use the mechanism could be raised and pulled to the side and then fastened to a hook on the barn wall. When the time came to use it, all one had to do was release the rope to let the winch swing over the trap door. The whole system could be powered by several men pulling on the rope to raise or lower the heavy obstacle.

She looked down at the trap door again and noticed the faded tracks of wagon wheels in the dirt floor. Her eyes followed the trail across the floor to where the wagon stood._ Oh, God,_ she suddenly realized, _t__hey weren't lowering supplies into that hole, they were raising something instead._ Something so heavy it needed a heavy rope to hold the weight and several vampires to work the winch. Even though the wagon was loaded with several bales of hay, that didn't have Alex fooled. She had a feeling that hay wasn't the prime cargo on that wagon.

When the Guardians fanned out to check the inside of the building for any hidden demons Alex moved with them hoping Doc wouldn't follow too closely to her heals. She checked to see what he was doing and found him working along side of Fabrizio. They had found a hammer and some nails, which they were now using to nail the trap door shut. "Just as a precaution." She heard Fabrizio tell Doc. "It will be one less way for them to get in and out."

She moseyed over to the wagon and carefully parted two bales of hay to see what might be hidden behind them. Sure enough, she saw the edge of a crate similar to those she had seen in the mine. _Ok_, she thought, _so they were transporting the silver crates and hiding them in a hay wagon. But where were they taking them and how many crates did they manage to transport? _It amazed her how brilliant Malachi's planning really was. As a precaution he had moved part of the silver to other locations just in case their hideaway became unsafe. With his fortune separated into smaller stashes he could easily transport the silver if he had to make a quick get away. Once free of the threat he could then plan his counterattack and reclaim the remaining amount.

She turned to look back at Doc and heard him ask Fabrizio. "What about the live stock? How will we get them out?"

_Geez, why is he worried about those damn cows anyway. _Alex narrowed her eyes and walked back to see what they were doing. She would worry about the silver at a later date, and only after she talked to Angel about how to handle this situation. The wagon of silver she could give to Father Martin to use to help the families who had been hurt by Malachi's attack. As for the rest… well that would depend on Angel's mood at the moment.

"They will have to be led out another way. Either the way we came in, or possibly an entrance that we don't know of yet." The Guardian told Doc.

"There's an entrance several yards back behind the barn, if it's accessible." Alex offered as she step in close. "When I found it there were several boulders blocking the entrance. The opening will have to be cleared first before we can get the cattle out."

Doc gave her a suspicious glare. "And _when_ exactly did you find this opening?"

"I was out here the afternoon Ringo attached the Oriental."

"Snuck out when I was sleeping no less." His lips formed into a thin line under his mustache as he remembered the day she was referencing. The memory of waking up alone in that bed was not one he would ever get over.

"Yes," she answered meekly, "when you were sleeping."

He suddenly grabbed her arm and led her several feet away from Fabrizio. "The very next time you sneak away from me Alex I'm going to turn you over my knee. Do I make myself clear?" His eyes burned sharp and cold blue as he stared back at her.

"Crystal." She replied as she tried hard to suppress the mental image of her naked backside exposed and vulnerable to his bare hand. The thought wasn't entirely unpleasant, which only made it harder to ignore. She blushed deeply when she accidently made eye contact with him.

Doc's angry glare suddenly softened to one of passion as he interpreted her secret thoughts. He released her arm to sensually caress the side of her face. "I can see I'm going to have to think of alternative ways to threaten you." He whispered in a low husky voice.

Alex quickly looked away but her blush deepen enough to make him chuckle softly. "Are we done here, Alexis?" He finally asked. She nodded but still refused to meet his gaze. "Then let's go back to the hotel. I'm weary right down to my bones."

This time she did look up, and in the early morning light noticed the dark shadows under his eyes and the paleness of his complexion. Alex stood on her toes and kissed him on the mouth. "We can forgo any further investigation until later." She turned to find Fabrizio watching them with amusement. "Are you ready to leave?"

"Si, Bella. More than ready."

* * *

It was a claw foot bathtub, filled with extremely hot bath water, loaded with soapy bubbles and one weary but sensually charged man. Alex pressed her back against Doc's chest and rested her head against his shoulder as she enjoyed the therapeutic properties of a good soak. "Let's stay like this until we wrinkle like prunes." She sighed.

He chuckled warmly. "You might not like it if parts of my anatomy shriveled like rotten fruit." He shook off the excess water from his hand, picked up his cigarette burning in the ashtray took a deep pull, and blew smoke into the air.

They had ordered room service consisting of fruit, cheese and fresh bread all of which Alex had conveyed into the bathroom and arranged nicely on a small table next to the tub. After she filled the tub and added bath salts, Doc opened two bottles of wine grabbed two glasses and slipped into the hot water behind her. They spent the next hour drinking, enjoying a light meal and just plain relaxing.

They talked of nothing important. Doc amused her by telling her stories about his younger days growing up with his cousins. She didn't ask him about the war knowing full well how touchy a subject that could be for a Southerner, but she did inquire about his home, his family, and how he filled his days as a youth.

"She was mortified when she found out that Sammy Jenkins had been parading around the back yard wearing her undergarments." He laughed soft and low. "I'm telling you Alex, until that moment I'd never seen Mattie wrinkle her brow let alone scream at anyone, but scream she did. Sam was just as startled by her fallen reserve and began to back away from her in fear of physical retribution. When he turned to run, Mattie took off after him. By then I was too overcome with hysterics to come to her aid. My father was so angry at Sam and me he took a switch to the both of us."

"What a horrid brat you must have been, John Henry." Alex tried to sound stern but her body shook with silent laughter. "Your poor cousin must have been an angel to have ever spoken to you again."

"Oh, she was quite putout for several weeks. I learned a hard lesson that summer. I became personally acquainted with the saying 'hell has no fury like a woman scorned'. Several weeks later she got her revenge. It was a hot-humid day, so Sam and I and two other good friends went skinny-dipping after supper. Mattie, my good angelic cousin, snuck up and took our clothing, leaving us to walk home in the buff. Then the little minx poured an entire bottle of honey in my bed. I had to sleep on the floor for three nights until my mattress dried after our servant washed it." He chuckled warmly as he took a mouthful of wine. "It wasn't until the next summer when I became enamored with her charms and beauty. Thankfully by then she had forgiven me."

"And what of Sammy Jenkins?"

"Oh, I wasn't the only one who noticed how she blossomed. Sammy noticed too, and for a short time we were hotly competitive over Mattie and several other girls in the neighborhood. Mattie told me she purposely stepped on his toes whenever he asked her for a dance. One time he actually limped home after he waltzed with her."

She rippled with laughter. "I think I would like your cousin. It sounds like the two of you were very close."

"Once, long ago, we were."

She reached for her glass and took a deep drink of the fruity beverage. The alcohol in the wine was hitting her hard, probably a combination of exhaustion, and the hot water, but oh my it felt so good. It had been months since she felt so relaxed, relieved of anxiety, and… happy. She was happy… happy sitting in soapy water with the man she loved. Once again she wished to remain frozen in time.

"Do you suppose Virgil is eating crow at this very minute?"

Doc snorted softly and placed his glass back on the small table. "If it was up to me he'd be eating an entire flock." He replied dryly.

Alex smiled knowing how hard it was for Doc and Virgil to get along.

"But to answer your question," Doc continued, "and knowing Allie's temperament as I do, I can assure you that Virgil will be picking feathers out of his teeth for at least a week."

Alex chuckled. "Three vamps in a row, and a novice at that! My God, what a slayer she would make. Why, with a few months of training, I could have her ready for active duty."

"Don't place any bets on Allie's membership, darlin." Doc quickly interrupted. "Virgil is extremely old fashioned. He likes his women at home."

"Still, I'm glad they were all unharmed, but it is a shame about Milt's window being smashed. I intend to speak to Father Martin about procuring some money to help with the repairs."

"Does the priest have the funds to do that?"

"Well, not directly, but the Catholic Church has more than enough. Fabrizio can wire for the money and it will be sent without question or delay."

He grunted softly with approval. "I'm glad Angel and Spike were unharmed." Doc mentioned offhandedly.

"Yes, me too. But that's experience for you – two hundred odd years of experience. It was lucky for Spike that Angel was there to pull him out of the rain."

"Hmm, indeed. I like that fellow. I would hate to see him come to harm. He reminds me of…. me."

"Indeed." Alex echoed. "You two are quite the pair."

"Are you referring to our charming good looks?" He teased as he snubbed out the remainder of his smoke.

"You're both easy on the eyes, no doubt about that, but I was thinking more about your philosophical perceptions. Spike has a way of getting to the heart of a dilemma or situation. He sees clearly through the fog just as you do."

He snorted with irritation. "Not entirely. I see through every fog but my own."

She reached back and caressed his cheek with one wet hand, leaving a thin trail of bubbles behind. "Think of it this way, dearest, if you easily pierced your personal fog it would take all the fun out of life."

"I've had enough fun for one lifetime, Alex. I don't need any more obscurity. I want some peace and normalcy in my life. Being with you has made me realize what I've been lacking." His hand came sliding up from her stomach to gently cup her breast. "Are you still eager to take what little happiness I have away from me?"

Alex sighed with frustration. She knew it was only a matter of time before he once again returned to this troublesome topic. She had hoped for a small reprieve, but obviously John wasn't willing to let the matter rest. "Can't we forget about our present circumstance for just a little while." She swallowed a large portion of her glass of wine to knock back the painful emotion that was rising in her chest.

"No." He replied sharply. "I'm too insecure to rest easy, Alex. I can't help but wonder what hour or day will be the last time I lay eyes on you." Instinctively he wrapped his arm around her in a tight embrace, as if she would spring from the bath at any moment to make good her escape. "I worry that you'll sneak away while I'm sleeping. Promise me you won't do that. That you'll at least give me the opportunity to say goodbye."

"I'm not leaving just yet, John." She caressed his arm until he relaxed somewhat. "There is still much work to do. Angel wants to stay another few days at least. And Fabrizio has mentioned he intends to stay in town for several weeks just to make sure the situation is contained."

"Stay here with me, Alexis. Don't go back to a world that holds nothing but painful memories for you. Give me the chance to make you happy." Doc couldn't help but notice that she gave him no reply as she swallowed the last of her wine. Slowly she sat up and placed her empty glass on the small table. "The water's grown cold." She remarked and then proceeded to get out of the tub. Anger and frustration raged through him as he watched her dry off before wrapping the towel around her body. Without another word she left the room.

"Damn." He muttered. _So be it_, he thought. _She is leaving me no choice._

* * *

**A/N - Well, our little drama is coming to a close** **, not just yet, but soon. Alexis has finally put her husband to rest, but her emotional trauma is far from over. (hint, hint) I maybe posting the chapters a little closer together as I'm anxious to finish the story. I've posted over 200 thousand words on this website and have more in my file. I never imagined this story would grow as large as it did. I hope you are enjoying the reading as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Leave me a review if you can, and thanks for reading.  
Bluemousey. **


	61. To Do What Needs To Be Done

**Chapter 60 – To Do What Needs To Be Done**

**Excerpt from Alex's Journal – October 1881, Day 25 (Evening)**

_How does one say goodbye? I've not had a lot of opportunities to afford the practice for this custom. I never got to say goodbye to my parents. I never got to say goodbye to my husband. I never even got to say goodbye to my old life. Oh, I'm not talking about my era. No, what I'm referring to is the life I left behind the moment I stepped through the doors of the training fort in Rome, and into a world that would soon consume me._

_I had plans and dreams for a world beyond my childhood years. I had first planned to return to my house in Maine. I dearly wanted to revisit my past before I moved onto my future, which would consist of college, lunch with friends, dates with handsome college boys, frat parties and all night study groups. All the mundane but normal things college girls do. After graduation there would be my profession as a teacher. Once I was comfortably settled I would advance to the next level – marriage. I would find the perfect man, marry him and have lots of children. The end result of my achievements would be something I've been longing for since I was first ushered off to Paris after my parent's funeral. I would have a family again. It is all I have ever wanted, really. _

_Does this sound stupid and childish? Probably, but I don't care. It was a dream, and that was all it was. A fantasy that erupted the moment I met Arthur and the Guardians. I was swept away by this new world and the knowledge that came with it. The currant carried me down the canal and along the way I picked up new skills and a new emotion – hate. I hated for the very first time. The things that took my parents away from me were roaming loose, creating more havoc for other families, but with the Guardian's help I could stop it. After I crossed the threshold of the training fort, I didn't emerge until my training was complete. By then my fate was sealed._

_Now I find myself unprepared, and ill-equipped to carryout my next task. I need to say goodbye to a world and friends I've grown very fond of, but even more so to a man I love dearly. _

_So, how does one say goodbye? I haven't a clue how to do it, nor do I think I have the strength to do so. _

* * *

"Do what you need to do, Alex!" Angel suggested in an annoyed tone as he continued to pack his bag. "Pick a fight, tell him you don't love him, or don't say anything at all, just leave him a note. You have tonight and all day tomorrow to say your goodbyes, so make it memorable. Whatever option you choose, we leave tomorrow at sunset."

He was standing with his back turned toward her. Not once during his five-minute rant had he glanced in her direction. _The coward_, she thought. _He can easily order me about, but he isn't brave enough to face my tears._ She looked once more toward Spike for support. His eyes held a world of sympathy, but he sided with Angel. Slowly, Spike shook his head at her before returning his concentration to the cigarette he was rolling. He was telling her it was time to go home, and prolonging the event wouldn't change a damn thing.

"Very well, Angel. Have it your way." She sighed as she slowly got up from the sofa.

They had spent the last three days cleaning up the mess Malachi and his army had created. Because she had arranged for the battle to commence on the outskirts of town, it remained largely unnoticed by the Tombstone citizens. Any questions or curiosity seekers were pacified with the fake article Virgil had arranged for the Epitaph to post in the paper. The disturbance was simply and briefly blamed on some fictitious rowdy cowboys who were quickly subdued and escorted out of town.

With the Guardian's help, they worked on damage control. Most of the families of the men Malachi had turned into vampires had been identified and then notified of their missing relative's death. The fake smallpox outbreak was the convenient excuse they used for the cause of death. Most of the personal possessions left behind in the mine had been sorted and returned to the next of kin. It was a small consolation but it did sooth Alex's conscious somewhat. She knew as much as the other Guardians that a missing family member can be heart breaking. Not knowing what happened to them, whether they lived or died, is more painful than learning that they had taken ill and died while being cared for by a devoted priest and his faithful parishioners.

To grieve and move on was better than lingering in the uncertain pass. It was a lesson she needed to personally use, but she was having a hard time setting aside her feelings for Doc. In her heart she didn't want to return home. More than anything she wanted to stay with him. _Then why don't you?_ Her inner voice questioned. Should she stay behind, and ask Angel to tell Arthur she had been killed in battle? Would anyone be the wiser if she went against protocol and remained in the past as Doc's wife? For that matter… would anyone really care?

But there was still the very small, yet significant, matter of love. She strongly suspected that Doc was confused. His desire to obtain what he couldn't have was over powering his emotions. After all, she had given him more than enough time to confess his feelings, and not once had he done so. If she gave in and stayed he would soon grow bored with her, and then he would leave, or worse, treat her with the same contempt he often showed Kate. How would she survive here in this era if Doc suddenly had a change of heart?

Alex grabbed her black bag and went into the bathroom. Her weapon bag had gotten rather full lately. In it she had her trusty items of weaponry and the personal items she had purchased or borrowed during her stay in Tombstone, but Angel had also brought the things she had left behind in the twenty-first century. She was grateful for his thoughtfulness. The extra change of clothing was nice to have on hand, especially since her supply of underwear had gotten rather sparse lately. Doc had contributed to her loss of feminine wares, and in no way did she regret the mutilation of those unfortunate panties, but after making a close inventory she found that at least two pairs were missing. This puzzled her greatly. Did she somehow loose those garments, or were they taken by an unknown panty thief?

Her first suspect was Spike. He was just the type of character to keep a pair of women's underwear as a memento. At the first opportunity she confronted him directly and was instantly sorry that she did. At first he seemed genuinely concerned and helpful. He questioned her about the size, shape and color of her garments and she was just gullible enough to answer each of his inquires thoroughly and in great detail. If finally occurred to her that he was leading her on a merry chase when he handed her a pencil and with a barely control smile asked her to sketch a rendering of the missing panties.

She could only surmise that her clothing must have gotten misplaced the night the Earps and Doc explored her bag, and after her embarrassing episode with Spike she didn't have the nerve to ask Wyatt or Doc if they holding her missing underwear. However, the drawers should really be found. Leaving modern devices behind in the past was not a good thing, and could damage the timeline even further than it was, but other than questioning each of her male friends there was nothing she could do. Alex shook her head in a fit of frustration. She refused to be held accountable for her twenty-first century panties floating around in the past. It was a risk either way. If Angel found out she had lost her modern things in the past he would pitch a fit. Rather than provoke his temper further she decided to keep this information to herself

Besides a few articles of street clothing, the other items she carried with her to California were her most prized possessions that consisted of her family photos, her mother and father's jewelry, as well as her wedding rings. She would be heartbroken if they had gotten lost. There were also her modern cosmetics that she was very thankful to have because tonight she intended to use them. She wanted to look her best for her last get together with Doc.

Her plan was a simple one: she would have a good cry, take a hot bath and prepare to say goodbye to the man who had stolen her heart. If only he loved her like she loved him, things might have turned out differently.

There was one thing that she was very proud to have accomplished during her time in Tombstone, and that was the financial support the proceeds from the mine would give to Father Martin's church. She had no doubt that the priest would make sure the poorer residents of the town benefited from her husband's planning. He could see that the families of the men Malachi had turned were provided for. Alex knew that life was hard on women and children with no husband to support them. Her conscious would be greatly eased if they had a little money to help them get by.

With Father Martin's assistance she had filed the necessary paperwork needed to transfer her ownership of the deed into a secret corporation. The beneficiaries of this corporation were only known to herself, Fabrizio and Father Martin. Angel and Spike were not aware of what she had done, and she intended to keep it that way. When her friends had asked about the silver she had simply told them that Fabrizio had claimed the fortune in the name of the Roman Catholic Church. That answer seemed to pacify them and thankfully Angel and Spike hadn't probed any deeper. In truth, the beneficiaries were the Earps, Doc, and Father Martin. Wyatt, with the help of his brothers, and Doc, would be able to successfully over see the operations of the mine. Father Martin would be able to see that a large proceed of the wealth would go to the families that needed it the most.

It pleased her to see how excited the priest was when she told him of her plan. Immediately, he began sprouting off his ideas on how to use the money. There would be a new school erected, repairs to the church, food and clothing to the poor, especially the Chinese members of Tombstone who were considered to be less than human during this era, and suffered greatly because of those backward ideals. Father Martin had been dreaming of such a windfall, and it made Alex especially happy to fulfill his dreams.

The wagon of silver left sitting in the barn would be given to Allie and Virgil after she left. Father Martin assured her of his secrecy until the moment came to tell her friends what she had done on their behalf. A certified copy of the deed, mining permit, and letters of instruction she would leave hidden in Doc's leather case where he kept all of his important papers. If something should prevent Father Martin from fulfilling his promise, Doc would still have all the necessary paperwork needed to validate ownership of the mine. Her friends would be financially secure, and that thought was the only thing that gave her comfort.

Fabrizio had promised to try to locate the other stashes of silver Malachi might have moved, but she knew the chances of finding the location of the hidden crates were very slim. Still, it was worth a try, and while Fabrizio was in the area patrolling he could also look for the silver.

The tall-dark Italian had decided to stay in Tombstone for an extended period of time. He had promised to train with Charlie Bassett and help Father Martin at the church. Alex got the impression that Fabrizio was growing tired of slaying and was ready to settle into a calmer lifestyle. A few of the other Guardians would also stay in the area for several more weeks and keep a watch for any stray vampires just in case they decided to return to the Clanton ranch. So, with a comforted heart, Alex knew the town of Tombstone was well protected and she was finally free to return home.

While Alex was bathing she had come to a conclusion. She had decided that tonight she would do her best to please Doc. There would be no tears, or regretful words. There would be no farewell speeches. She would pretend that tonight was like any other night. In her make-believe world there were no endings or beginnings, just another evening spent with the man she loved. When her time came to a close she would wish him well, and quietly leave with her dignity in tacked.

Once she had finished dressing for her last hooray with Doc, she checked her look in the mirror. For the first time since her arrival to this century she wished for an elegant dress to wear for him. But Allie's hand me down dress of blue gingham would have to do. She applied a little makeup to cover her pale complexion and left her hair down to flow over her shoulders and back. John liked her hair best when it was brushed to a soft fullness and free from her usual braid, hair ties and pins.

While walking down the hall toward Doc's room she did her best to keep her delusion alive. Hopefully she could maintain her fantasy until after she kissed him goodbye. It was the only way she would be able to hold her tears back and not lose control along with her self-respect.

She found him sitting in the dark. Only the cherry red ember from his cigarette revealed his position within the room. Sensing his turbulent emotions, she gently closed the door and lit the first candle she found. In the dim light she saw him sitting in a chair near the window and his mental state was just as she thought it would be – half drunk and in a bad mood. Alex noted an empty liquor bottle sitting on the floor, a newly opened bottle of scotch on the table along side his chair, and Doc's partially undressed attire. Apparently, he was planning to spend the rest of the evening in this state. Although he hadn't yet taken off his gun, which was odd considering the battle was over and peace was finally restored to the town.

Alarm bells went off in her head when he refused to look at her as she approached. She sat on the arm of his chair and smoothed the hair back from his eyes. "I thought we might have some dinner together. We never did go out on our date like you planned." She continued to slowly stroke the hair on the back of his neck hoping to calm him with a gentle touch.

Doc scoffed loudly and emptied his glass. "How off course we have sailed, Alexis. Why should we bother to make a correction now?"

His harsh words brought her fantasy to an abrupt end. Doc was obviously upset. If their last hours together were going to have any pleasant memories, she would need to do a little damage control first. Alex leaned in to kiss the back of his neck and tired to hold her looming tears at bay. "I don't want to spend our last night together fighting with you."

Doc took another deep pull of his cigarette and said nothing.

"Would you rather I got drunk with you instead?" She teased.

Silence.

Alex paused, and chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip while she contemplated her next move. "Or, you could teach me how to play poker. I know only a little about the game, but I'm a fast learner."

Still she got no response.

"How about strip poker then? We'll get drunk together, play strip poker and then have sex on the floor." She had been trying to lighten his mood but her effort had the opposite affect. Doc finally leaned forward put his head in his hands and sobbed.

Alex curse softly under her breath as her own tears blurred her vision. She leaned against his back and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "Don't baby, please don't cry." She whispered. "It'll just make things worse for both of us."

He sniffed loudly and then issued a bitter laugh. "Wouldn't take much to make things worse." He went to reach for his handkerchief, shuffled in and out of a few pockets but came up empty handed. Another bitter laugh followed as he wiped his eyes with his hand.

She moved off the chair and over to the dresser where Doc kept his hankies. His and hers handkerchiefs would definitely be needed if they were going to spend the evening in tears.

The first drawer she opened was empty. Confused as to why he would move his things, she opened the second drawer but it too was empty. Without looking up she called out to him as she started to open a third drawer. "John, where did you put your handkerchiefs?" She hadn't realized he had move to stand behind her until she felt the warmth of his arm slide around her waist.

"They're in my travel case."

"Why did you…" She started to ask but never got the chance to finish when she felt his left hand clamp tightly around her right wrist and a strange odor assaulted her senses right before he pressed the cloth over her nose and mouth.

Alex struggled against him but he held her fast. Right before she lost consciousness she heard him say, "I remembered you said laudanum wouldn't affect you, so I thought I'd try chloroform instead."

* * *

Wyatt had been enjoying his first peaceful moment in weeks. He had spent the morning doing what every man longs do – make love to a beautiful woman. Now the object of his affections was soaking in a bubble bath while he smoked a cigar and read the paper. Peace, quiet and tranquility where three words he was going to add to his vocabulary on a daily basis from now on. When the pounding on his door broke the silence, he nearly jumped out his chair.

He had gotten halfway to the door when Josie called out from the bath. "Wyatt?" She practically shouted, with just an edge of stress and worry to her voice.

He stepped in, looked longingly at her naked form sitting in the tub with bubbles around her neck, and reached to shut the door. "It's probably Virgil." He answered in a soothing voice.

But when he opened the door he found it wasn't Virgil.

"He's taken her." Angel snapped.

"Doc?"

"Who else." He snapped. "I went to check in on her this morning and found the room empty. The bed hadn't been slept in and all of his things are gone. The clerk tells me he left with Alex last night."

Before Angel could continue, Wyatt stopped him. "Do you think they ran away together?"

Angel's lips thinned even further. "Well, if they did, then Alex must have been very tired when the hotel clerk watched Holliday carry her out the door."

"Ah, hell." Wyatt cursed as he opened the door further. "Come on in while I get dressed. We'll find Virgil and then saddle some horses. I think I have an idea where he might have gone."

"I can't go with you, at least not until sunset." Angel reminded him.

Wyatt ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Yeah, I forgot. All right, let me see what I can do. I'll go find Virg and then get back to you."

"Where do you think he took her?"

"Probably on the stage heading north to connect with the Southern Pacific rail line. From there he could go anywhere. We'll have to hope Alex can get the upper hand and stop him before they travel too far."

"I'm going to kill him." Angel said matter-of-factly.

Wyatt only chuckled and shook his head. "Not if Virgil kills him first."

* * *

Doc was very pleased with his plan. The chloroform worked perfectly. Alex remained sedated for almost an hour. By the time she started to come around they were on a private stage traveling north to the nearest train station. He dosed her a couple more times while on the stage, which kept her quiet until they got to the station. Only the train porter questioned him about the unconscious woman he carried. Doc gave him the preplanned response before directing him to carry his luggage to the private car he had hired. Once the train was in motion he was finally able to relax.

The cabin was comfortably outfitted. There was a bed at one end of the car, two cushioned chairs, a fully stocked bar, and a small, yet elegant dining table. He placed Alex on the bed and set the bottle of chloroform and hanky on the mattress beside her where it would be at hand when he needed it. He didn't anticipate any problems from here on out. He had left inexplicit instructions when he paid for the tickets that he and his sick wife wanted to maintain their privacy. The only interruption until they switched trains in East Texas would be at meal times when the porter would check in to ask about serving a cold dinner. He would need to keep her sedated for another two days, but once they were on the last train heading to Louisiana, he would let Alex recover from her sleep. By then they would be too far from Arizona for her to do much more than pitch her tantrum while he watched with amusement. He was very sure he could persuade her to his way of thinking before they got to Florida. It might take some doing but he would eventually make her understand how he felt.

He tossed his coat and hat on the chair and poured a stiff drink from the bar as he watched the dark Arizona landscape pass by. He was not sorry to be leaving the state even though he had enjoyed the years he spent living there. But he had missed the lush green wilderness of the Eastern states and for the first time in years he was felt excited to be traveling. For once in his life he wasn't running from some dark event, but running to something that left him feeling hopeful and full of exhilaration

He reached in his pocket and snapped open his watch. It had been forty-five minutes since her last dose and about time for another one. He set his drink down on the bar and walked to the bed. Alex was still sleeping soundly. From what he had learned in school and from what his cousin, Dr. Crawford Long, had told him, chloroform was harmless if the patient was given short intervals of fresh air in between doses. There were even certain groups of people who used the gassy liquid as a recreational drug. Still, he kept a close eye on her respiration and pulse. He felt sure Alex was not in any danger, but he didn't want to take any chances with her health either.

He sat down beside her and checked her pulse, finding it to be slow and steady, registering no change since the initial dose in the hotel room. With a loving hand he reached out and touched the smooth skin on her face and the fine arch of her ash colored eyebrows. She was beautiful, even more so when she was sleeping, and only he, and no other male, would have the honor of watching her sleep. She was his wife, or at least that is how he already thought of her. They might not have spoken the vows, not yet anyway, but that minor oversight would not alter how he felt about her and the place she held in his heart. He intended to marry her as soon as they reached Florida. Shortly thereafter he would get her pregnant. There would be no way she could ever leave him once she carried his child.

He laughed suddenly at his dark overbearing thoughts. Not in all of his years had he ever felt like this about a woman – dangerously possessive and territorial to a fault. If his mother were still alive she'd be appalled at how he had treated Alex. At the same time, she'd be overjoyed that he had finally found someone who understood him and who would stand by him through thick and thin. It was what she had always wanted for her only child. She had told him not to settle for less.

"_Only true love will make you happy, Johnny. Wealth, social position and power will not follow you to your grave. But love… will last eternal. Find it for yourself. Don't end up in a loveless marriage like I did." _

He had painful memories of those last days beside her bed as he watched her linger, yet slowly, painfully, advance toward death. It was during those last days when she imparted on him her most powerful words of wisdom, words that were adult in nature that he would not fully understand until he reached manhood. Words that haunted him still.

He could only imagine the extent of his mother's happiness if he could tell her how he had followed her advice as he proudly introduced Alexis as his new bride. A lump of emotion suddenly formed in his throat. Thinking of his mother always did that to him. He swallowed hard and tried to shake off his thoughts of the past and his feelings of grief. Thinking of the past never did him any good and the past had no precedence in his life today. Only his future with Alex mattered now.

He smiled and leaned down to kiss her soft mouth and became aroused doing so. A fleeting thought of a sexual interlude with his sleeping bride also amused him. Sex with an unconscious woman is something his mother would _not_ approve of. He would have to control himself until Alex was awake and willing to receive him. Since it would probably be sometime before she got over her anger, Doc didn't think it would be such a terrible thing to snuggle with a sleeping, naked woman. After all, it wouldn't be the first time he and Alex had done so. There was, however, one small problem… he would need to tie her soundly before he would be free to get any sleep, and even then his sleep was sure to be shorted lived. Once she came around from being sedated Alex was bound to kick up one hell of a fuss – at least until he subdued her again.

For the first time since his twisted plan was set in motion, Doc began to wonder if his little cook would be so angry with him that it would permanently damage their relationship. What if she never got over the extreme steps he took to secure her? What if she went back to her home angry with him still, and he never got the opportunity to make things right? He could only pray that wouldn't happen as he leaned over to kiss her once again, but when he felt the sharp point of a knife slide through his shirt to press against the tender skin just below his armpit he knew he was very wrong. Before he could move away she spoke.

"I wouldn't move a hair if I were you." Alex said in an eerily calm voice. "The tip of this blade is positioned over your upper lung. If I push too hard…"

Doc sucked in his breath sharply when the tip of the blade broke through his skin. "Alex…don't." He focused on her face and his heart went cold when he saw the naked hatred she displayed.

"I could puncture the lung and the pulmonary vein underneath with one thrust." She continued. To further clarify her point she rotated the blade a half turn cutting a small circular wound into his skin. "You'd bleed to death and struggle for breath at the same time. Not a nice way to die."

Doc glanced across the bed to where he had left the bottle of chloroform and found it had mysteriously vanished.

"I hid it." She clarified. "Maybe when I'm done carving you up, I'll use it on you and see how you like it." She pushed against the blade again and Doc felt it sink a little deeper in his skin. Then she raised her other hand and braced it against his opposite shoulder restricting his movements even further. Slowly, she pushed him away as she simultaneously sat up.

He hovered near the edge of the bed, afraid to touch her, and yet, afraid if he didn't he'd never get another chance. Her face was a complete mask, showing not an inkling of weakness or sentimentality. A cold feeling of foreboding suddenly ran through him. He had never seen her look like this before, not even during her battle with Malachi had she displayed such a cold exterior.

The warning signs were there, waving red banners in his face, but he continued to ignore them while his mind rapidly worked out a way to regain control. The chloroform and hanky had to be hidden beneath one of the several pillows. There was nowhere else she could have tucked them without him noticing. He also knew she was not entirely free from the lingering affects of the drug. If he could just get his hands on that bottle and cloth he would be able to subdue her within seconds. One or two good whiffs and she would be out cold. A small voice inside his head screamed, _Stop now. Beg for her forgiveness before it's too late._ But he had come too far, had planned so carefully, and had gambled so high that stopping was no longer an option. Doc decided to raise the ante rather than lose everything he had placed in the till. If he could just grab her by the wrist he was certain he could wrestle the knife from her and pin her to the bed.

It never occurred to him be concerned for his safety.

In a calm soothing voice he pleaded, "Can I please explain?" Slowly, carefully, he reached out for her with one hand.

"No. I think not." She spit right before she slashed out with the blade and cut him deeply across the inside of his forearm.

Doc cried out as a stream of blood poured down his wrist and over his hand. The shock of her brutal act caused him to stumble backward and fall to the floor as he desperately tried to staunch the flow with his other hand. "Are you insane!" He screamed.

"Yeah, pretty much." Alex replied while scooting backward across the bed, putting as much space as she could between Doc and herself. Once she had her back braced against the wall of the cabin she rubbed a weary hand across her eyes as she struggled to overcome the lingering effects of the drug. "You dirty, rotten, son of a bitch! How could you do this to me!" Despite her best effort not to cry, tears began to spill down her face.

"Alex… I…" He started to stand but when he removed his hand from the wound blood poured out faster. "Jesus Christ!" He cried while pressing hard against the laceration again. "What are you going to do, sit there and watch me bleed to death?!" He glanced down at his arm with disbelieving eyes and watched as a steady flow of blood seeped out from under his fingers and palm. _She cut me. She actually cut me._ He couldn't believe, couldn't fathom the concept. The woman he prized above all else who had also freely confess her love for him, had just committed an act of extreme violence against him.

She shook her head. "I'm going to sit here and wait until you pass out from the loss of blood. Then I'll help you." She reached up toward the window and snapped it open. When the window was opened wide enough she took the bottle of chloroform she had hidden under the folds of her dress and tossed it out the window. The handkerchief he used to hold over her nose followed right behind. "I trusted you! I loved you! How could you do this to me?!"

Doc blinked slowly, the loss of blood was making it very hard to think straight. "Does this mean you aren't flattered by my attentions?" The room began to spin and despite his best effort to stay upright he found he no longer had the strength to do so. He winched when his head struck the floor. "Alexis…" He pleaded as his vision blurred.

Right before he passed out he heard her reply. "Let's just say you got my attention, John. Just not in a good way."

* * *

"Mister. Hey, mister, wake up."

Doc struggled to open his eyes through a haze of drowsiness. There was another gentle shake of his shoulder before the voice spoke again. "Do you want me to fetch the doctor?"

"No. I'm…. awake." _I think_. His mouth was a dry as cotton and his head felt like someone had beaten him with a stick. He groaned softly and pushed himself to a sitting position. When he was finally able to open his eyes he looked about. The train was stopped and he had no idea where he was. "Where are we?"

"Lisbon, New Mexico." The porter looked at him more closely. "Looks like you've been bleeding. Are you sure you don't want a doctor?"

Still bewildered, Doc looked around the car once more, found it was empty, and that night had now passed into early morning. Glancing down at his bloody attire, he cursed softly as he took in his soiled shirt, pants and the large reddish-brown stain on rug where he had passed out. When he raised the sleeve on his wounded arm he found she had healed him, but for spite she had left him alone lying on the floor of the train car.

He did a quick calculation and realized that several hours had passed since his vicious encounter with Alex, which had been about half pass eleven at night. From the direction of the sun it now looked to be about eight o'clock in the morning. _Lisbon, New Mexico?_ He pondered. He realized it was one of the stops along the rail line, which meant they were only a hard day's ride from Tombstone. _Damn her._ She had several hours head start and could be just about anywhere by now. He turned his attention to the bewildered porter and asked, "The woman who was here… where did she go?"

"Huh?" The porter replied.

"MY WIFE," Doc snapped, "where the hell did she go?"

"Oh! I gave the lady directions to the hotel down the street. She said not to wake you, but I was told to clean this car for the next passenger before the train leaves the station, so…" The porter gave Doc a pointed look, letting him know he should take his bloody body and get out.

Doc let out a string of curses as he grabbed his coat and hat and stumbled out of the car in search of Alex. When he found her, she would have a lot of explaining to do.

He went directly to the hotel, ignoring the startled looks he received from the people on the street. Lisbon had changed a lot in the few years since his last visit. Or, perhaps he meant since he was last run out of town. _How long ago was that anyway?_ More importantly, would the sheriff of this splendid town still be itching to toss him in jail? _I must maintain a low profile_, he thought as he pushed open the doors to the hotel.

Her room wasn't hard to find, but she had registered under her married name, which irked him tremendously. It suddenly occurred to him that she probably didn't have the necessary funds to procure a room, and that eventually she would need to ask him for money, but when he checked his coat pockets he realized she had taken several hundred dollars, leaving him only fifty dollars and some loose change. _Devious bitch_, he thought darkly as he made his way to her room.

He had meant to knock politely when he reached her door, not wanting to upset her anymore than she already was, but his self control was not what it should have been and he ended up banging on it instead. When she didn't immediately answer he pounded on it a second time, waited a second or two before he called out to her. "Alexis!"

He tried to open the door but found it was securely locked and too heavy to break down. The elite Guardian had managed to barricade herself behind a very solid door. Did she really think he was such a monster that he would knock her door down and drag her forcibly from the building?

He heard a small movement from within. "Alexis, open this damn door!" He yelled loud enough to disturb the residents next door. When a strange face poked out from the neighboring door to investigate, Doc hissed, "Fuck off," and the face quickly disappeared.

There was still no response from Alex, but he could now hear her crying softly. Guilt, as sharp and as deadly as her knife flooded his chest and began to drip into his stomach until he was physically sick by what he had done to her and to the fragile relationship they had. Had he really been delusional enough to think that drugging her was a good idea? "Alex, please let me talk to you." He begged in a gentler tone.

"No." She finally called back. "I have nothing to say to you, John."

Perplexed as to what he should do, he stood there a moment with his ear pressed to the door. Yes, she was definitely crying. "Damn." He muttered. "Alex, I'm sorry. I'm an idiot for having such a crazy idea. Please, open the door and let's talk about this."

"What, and give you another chance to drug me again? Do you think I'm stupid?"

Her voice became clearer and he could tell she was now standing directly on the other side of the door. He took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing heart. "I give you my word of honor, no more tricks. I just want to talk." He said in what he hoped was a calm reasonable voice.

"I don't want to talk, damn it, I want to go home. Go away, John." Immediately after responding she began to sob openly.

Doc put his hand on the wooden door level to where her face would be on the other side. "Damn you Alex. I said I was sorry." He listened to her cry for several more minutes before he turned away in search of a stiff drink.

The bar wasn't busy, but was mainly occupied by a few old men that had nowhere else to go during the day. Doc said a silently prayer of thanks for the solitude. He wasn't in the mood to talk and he most certainly wasn't in the mood to be fucked with. He walked up to the bar and ordered a bottle of whiskey and a glass. The bartender gave his bloody attire a passing glance before he complied, and after setting up his first round asked, "Are you Doc Holliday?"

Inwardly, Doc grumbled, outwardly he calmly replied.

"I've been expecting you. Mrs. McCulloch left word that your trunk had been taken to your room here at the hotel."

This news was unexpected and yet encouraging. Until this moment, Doc hadn't thought to ask where his luggage was. Perhaps all was not lost, considering she thought enough of his comfort to get him a room as well. "Did she say anything else?"

"Well… no, not really. She just said to expect you and then she asked where the telegraph office was. She said she needed to wire her friends.

"Perfect." Doc growled. All he needed now was Wyatt, Virgil and Alex's dark friend, Angel here to give him a hard time. "What's your name?" He asked the bartender.

"Thomas."

Doc reached into his pocket and tossed the money for the bottle on the bar. "You've been very helpful, Thomas. This is for the whisky and here's a little extra for you." He pressed two dollars into the man's palm. "There's more of that if you would like to keep me informed of Mrs. McCulloch's movements while visiting your fair town. Agreed?"

Much later that night there was a loud pounding on Doc's hotel room door and a strong sense of déjà vu came over him. Hadn't this all happened before?

After leaving the bar he found his hotel room and proceeded to get stinking drunk. He knew that drinking wouldn't solve his problems, but what else was he to do? He suffered from a total collapse of his dream and his future. And to make matters worse, Alex was now afraid of him.

_I don't want to talk, damn it, I want to go home. Go away, John._

Her sad words hurt him more than her knife. Well, he had finally accomplished the worst. Not only was it impossible for him to accompany her to her time, but now she wanted nothing to do with him and would in fact be relieved to be rid of him. It was self destruction pure and simple. In lieu of these events, getting drunk seemed like the only proper recourse.

But then the pounding started…

His head screamed, his eyes refused to focus and any minute now he was going to vomit. Who the hell was pounding? Then he remembered the last time. _W__ouldn't it be hysterical if Kate materialized on the other side of that door._ He chucked lightly as he struggled to his feet and stumbled across the room. The pounding came again just as Doc threw back the lock and opened the door with the intent of confronting his visitor. "Well, thank God you're not Kate."

Virgil didn't immediately reply. Instead he pulled his fist back and slammed it into Doc's face and watched as his target landed on the floor. "In a minute you're going to be wishing I was Kate." He hauled Doc to his feet and was prepared to hit him again but Wyatt intervened.

He held firmly onto his brother's arm. "Virgil, if you hit him too much, he won't be able to account for what he did."

Virgil glared dangerously at Wyatt and tried to jerk his arm free. "Not a problem. I'm not really inclined to listen to his excuses at the moment, Wyatt."

"I told her I was sorry." Doc slurred through a mouthful of blood.

"In a minute you're going to be more than sorry, you dog."

"If it's all the same to you, Virgil, I would appreciate not bleeding anymore. I've already lost a lot of blood in the last twenty-four hours." Doc wiped the palm of his hand across his injured mouth, looked briefly at the evidence left behind, before showing the lawman his bloody hand.

Virgil let out a slew of curses and tossed the gambler to the floor. He moved away to stand by the window as he tried to calm down.

Wyatt stood by the door and surveyed the room and his friend's physical condition. The room was relatively neat, but Doc was a mess. Wyatt had expected him to be drunk, but where did all the blood come from?

"What happened?" He asked as he helped the inebriated dentist to stand.

Doc stopped fingering his wounded lip to issue a response. "You'll have to be more specific Wyatt. So much of my life has been fucked up in the last day I don't know how to begin to explain." He sighed loudly when Wyatt eased him down into his chair.

"You're covered in blood, Doc. Were you fighting with someone?"

Doc looked down at his shirt and then smirked at Wyatt. "Oh, that. Yes, in a matter of speaking, I was fighting with Alex. She cut the dickens out of me. Faster than I thought she could if you consider how heavily sedated she was. By the way… have you seen her?"

From across the room Virgil cursed again and Wyatt motioned for him to remain calm. "Yeah, we saw her, but she wouldn't tell us the particulars. Just that you kidnapped her."

As if cued, Virgil stormed over with one finger outstretched. "I should have your ass arrested. Kidnapping is a crime, damn it, that could get you ten to fifteen years in prison."

Wyatt waved him away again before turning back to Doc. "What were you thinking?"

Doc gingerly ran the tip of his finger across his wounded lip again. "What was I thinking?" He echoed back with a slight elevation to his voice. "I was thinking that the woman I love was leaving me even though I've begged her a thousand times to stay. So, I did the only thing I could think to do – I drugged her and kidnapped her. You would have done the same, Wyatt, if you were in my position, and don't tell me you wouldn't."

"You drugged her? But I thought that Alex couldn't…"

"And she was right, but I had to try anyway. I dosed her with chloroform every hour on the hour. My first mistake was not checking her for weapons, but I was too anxious about keeping her unconscious I didn't think to look for weapons. When I finally had her on the train I got careless and misjudged the time. She woke up, held a knife to my chest, and threatened to puncture my lung. Before I could make a move to grab her knife she practically cut my arm to the bone then told me she was going to wait until I passed out from blood loss before she would heal me."

Both men looked back at him with wide eyes. "Shoot, she must be really pissed at you." Wyatt finally replied.

"No doubt." He drawled. "I'm in awe that she handled me so fucking easily. I guess I should be thankful she loves me enough not to have kill me outright."

"I don't love you at all." Virgil jumped in. "You should be very worried about what I might do to you."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading, and a special thanks for the kind reviews. See ya in about a week. Bluemousey**


	62. Resolution

**Chapter 61 – Resolution**

Fifteen minutes later, Wyatt and Virgil stood back inside Alex's domain. Since her arrival she had yet to leave the room, either to eat or get any fresh air. Physically, she looked only slightly better than Doc did at the moment. Although Doc had finally washed and put on a clean set of cloths, he was still pale from the blood loss and sporting a split lip from Virgil's burst of anger. Alex had neither bathed nor changed her clothes. After sending a wire to every train station between Lisbon and Tombstone, which was how they had found her so quickly, she had simply locked herself in her room and refused to come out. She had also been crying since her fight with Doc and it showed.

Wyatt glanced around the sparsely furnished room and saw no signs of either her black bag or a travel case. For the first time since his arrival, Wyatt wondered how well planned his friend's scheme really was. Obviously, Doc had pre-packed his things in his trunk as he prepared for the trip, but for some reason he never arranged for provisions for Alex. Perhaps he didn't have the time to pack Alex's things when he took her. Either that or his friend simply decided not to bother taking her few possessions and would instead just buy her whatever she may need during the trip. Doc had probably made arrangements for his departure, perhaps to return to Georgia with the hope that Alex would accompany him. When that wish didn't materialize, he decided to use force instead. It was a stupid thing to do, but it also revealed the desperation the dentist was feeling.

He scrutinized Alex's clothing and frowned at her basic attire. She wore a rather plain blue cotton dress, stockings and shoes. Her hair was loose and flowed over her shoulders to the middle of her back. When she shivered he realized she was probably cold. He glanced out the window at the steady-cold rain that was falling. The thin dress she wore would offer her no protection from the harsh New Mexico weather. Before they made the trip home he would have to gather some warmer clothing for her.

His thoughts were drawn back to the present when he noticed Alex shivering again. Wyatt took off his suit coat and draped it around her shoulders. She gave him a weak smile, the first he had seen since arriving.

Once again Wyatt tried to cheer her up and coax her into having a late dinner with them. Doc of course would be excluded, but Alex again refused as she continued to silently weep. "Your going to run out of tears eventually, Alex. A good solid meal might help you feel better."

Her red-rimmed eyes glanced in his direction. "You're probably right, Wyatt, but I can't seem to stomach the idea of food right now. I don't know if it's from my nerves or all that chloroform he gave me."

"More than likely it's your nerves. You said yourself the affects of the drug passed quickly after you took the bottle away from him."

Alex's lips thinned when Wyatt mentioned the bottle of chloroform. She looked away from him and back toward the rain splattered window. "I can only remember pieces of the trip out here. I remember being constantly nauseous and every time I opened my eyes Doc was right there with that damn cloth to press over my face again." She visibly shivered and blotted her eyes again as a fresh bout of tears started. "Then finally, once we were on the train, I came to and had the sense not to let him know. At the first opportunity I slid the bottle under my dress and drew my knife." She issued a bitter laugh. "He's very fortunate I only cut his arm. There were other parts of his body I longed to cut into first, but since I didn't know if he had more than one bottle of chloroform I needed to make sure he was subdued. Blood loss seemed like the perfect way to do it."

Virgil cursed softly, ran his hand over his face and turned away as he tried to compose his rising temper. "I could really kill him this time, Wyatt." He muttered to his brother.

"Get in line." Alex suggested.

She turned away from the window and sat down on the only chair in the room while pulling the coat closer around her body. "What I don't understand is why he would go to such extremes to kidnap a woman he's not in love with? I mean…why bother? Is it just possession, or obsession? Can either of you answer this?"

Wyatt was shocked by her question. _Good Lord,_ he thought, _she thinks he doesn't love her. _Wyatt looked briefly at Virgil to see if his brother wanted to tackle deciphering the finer elements of Doc's love life. When Virgil shook his head and turned away, Wyatt knew it was up to him to answer Alex's questions. He sat on the edge of the bed as he tried to compose his thoughts.

"Doc's psyche is complicated, Alex. He's been through a lot. He's had a lot of grief and loss in his life. That kind of pain doesn't go away, but it is often soften by the good things in life, like love, family, and friendship. Unfortunately, he hasn't had a lot of that either. As for his feelings for you, there's no doubt in my mind that they go very deep."

Alex issued an uncomfortable laugh and looked down at her hands. "He sure has a funny way of showing it, Wyatt."

"Hurting you was not what he wanted to do, and I know he won't try it again. Do you want to talk to him?"

She shook her head. "No, not just yet."

"You're going to have to face him eventually. He wants to apologize, if you'll let him."

Again she gave him a submittal shake of her head as she lightly dabbed her eyes.

Wyatt nodded briefly and let the topic drop for the time being. Doc and Alex would just have to work things out on their own. He glanced once more at Virgil before asking, "We would still like to take you to dinner. I promise, Doc won't be there."

She forced a smile and shook her head again. "Really, I'm just not hungry. I'll just stay here and try to relax."

Resolved that he couldn't change her mind, Wyatt nodded slightly as he stood. "I'll have someone bring up a light mean and up some hot water so you can take a bath. That might make you feel better. Try to get some rest. We'll come get you tomorrow morning at eight o'clock. Our train leaves at half passed."

* * *

Doc also found the idea of food nauseating. He tried to eat but the more he ate the more nauseous he became. He finally decided to forgo solid nutrition and stick to a liquid diet instead. Drinking always dulled his pain, and considering how he felt at the moment, he was likely to be drunk for some time. There was also a bonus to his evening agenda; he could spend all the next day sleeping off his hangover on the train. Sleeping and dreaming of Alex sure beat looking at her cold stare and tear filled eyes. How the hell was he going to make things right with her? And how could he still stop her from leaving?

He nodded once to Wyatt and Virgil as they took a quiet meal at the bar and noted the absence of female company as they ate. He hadn't seen Alex once since arriving, and according to Thomas, she hadn't left her room since checking in. All things considered, this news was not good. His little cook was more upset than he had ever imagined her to be. What could he say or do to make things right? Whatever method he tried needed to be a fast one. They were leaving to return to Tombstone tomorrow morning, and he imaged she would be leaving to return to her time not long after that. Which meant in about two days she would be forever beyond his reach. Would two days be enough time to talk sense to a woman as angry as Alex was? No, he calculated it was not. What course then should he follow? As he made his way back to his room an unexpected opportunity presented itself and with it an idea.

* * *

After Wyatt and Virgil left, Alex remained seated by the window and tried to make sense of recent events. The past twenty-four hours seemed like a bad dream. Maybe she was dreaming. Perhaps if she stretched out on the bed she would fall asleep, and when she woke up again she would find herself back in Tombstone, safe and warm in Doc's bed, and this horrible ache of betrayal she was feeling would be nothing more than a distant memory.

She focused on the rain-splattered window and felt another fresh wave of tears come to her eyes. The New Mexico weather echoed her mood – wet, cold, and gray. In her hand she absentmindedly fingered the handkerchief Doc had given her. With it she created a small tuff and lightly dabbed at her eyes. Her twenty-four hour crying jag had outlasted the effectiveness of the cloth. It was now more wet than dry and at the rate her tears were falling it wouldn't be drying anytime in the near future.

While preparing for her last date with Doc, she had put the handkerchief in her pocket and completely forgotten it was there, but this did not surprise her. The hanky was constantly within arms reach and had now become a permanent accessory in her daily wardrobe. She no longer needed to consciously remember to tuck it on her person. The cloth was more than a useful convenience; it had become a memento of Doc that she carried with her at all times, thereby creating a symbol of the place he held in her heart.

_His place in her heart? _But hadn't he slipped and fallen from that pedestal? Was the high esteem she once felt for him diminished by his act of treachery?

What kept her immobile and solitary, rather than dinning with Wyatt and Virgil, was her inability to decipher her feelings. Before she could confront Doc, she first needed to sort out her own frame of mind. How upset was she really? On a scale of one to ten, ten being thoroughly convinced she had enough of this Victorian relationship and that going home to her time couldn't come fast enough, or was her level of annoyance closer to one, representing that she still loved him enough to view his deception as a desperate act to keep her here in this time with him. She glanced down at the embroiled initials and smoothed out an offensive wrinkle. Why had Doc hurt her? Hadn't she been through enough? Although she tried to find a logical reason to justify his behavior, nothing came to mind. It made no sense to drug her and transport her to Florida against her will. Did the idiot think she would eventually accept her situation? Did he really think that her friends wouldn't come looking for her?

"What were you thinking?" She asked the hanky.

Following those thoughts came another more alarming concern. The relationship she had with Doc, which she had worked so hard to maintain, was now irreparably damaged. In two days time she would be going home and the last thing she wanted was to part on bad terms. Now she had no choice. He had drugged and kidnapped her, and in retaliation she had cut the dickens out of his arm. It wasn't very likely that a hallmark card and a bouquet of flowers would mend those wounds. _Oh, Doc, I'm so sorry things ended this way._ Her emotions suddenly overwhelmed her and she leaned into the palms of her hands and sobbed.

When the hotel staff knocked on her door with a cold meal and several buckets of hot water for her bath, she was almost relieved. The silence in the room was eating at her, slowly pecking away her ability to think straight. The more upset she became the more her mind looped around and around the same concepts: Doc's betrayal, her mixed-up feelings, and the knowledge that the damage to their relationship was probably permanent. Wyatt was right; perhaps a hot bath would make her feel better.

* * *

He stood silently at her door listening to the sounds emanating from within. Finally, after another moment, he concluded that Alex was bathing. He smiled sinfully. His timing couldn't have been better. Of course he knew her door would be locked against any and all intruders. Especially intruding drunken dentists. She had hoped to bar him from entering her domain, but he did not perceive this to be a problem – he had a key.

The smooth metal turned silently in the well-oiled lock. The hinges on the door were also well behaved. As silently as he entered, he closed the door behind him. Two more steps forward and he stood just a few feet away.

She was standing in the tub with her back turned toward him, rinsing the last of the soapy bubbles from her long legs. Her hair was piled high on her head and tied with a band of white cloth, giving him a perfect view. The line of her back was breathtakingly beautiful. Well-defined muscles in her shoulders and back turned and flexed as she continued her task. The blend of symmetry from one group of muscles to the next was spellbinding. The slope downward ended at the two indentations right above her perfect ass. An ass he had personally held to create the best angel as he slid in and out from between her legs.

He glanced briefly at her half eaten meal and felt another wave of guilt. _She's too upset to eat._ He was to blame for her present state of mind. There had been a lot of determination on his part to whisk her away in the manner that he did, but he was equally resolved to extend the same effort to mend the hard feelings between them.

Within moments she sensed his presence and turned around to face him. At first she made no effort to cover her nakedness, instead she scowled darkly at him. "What the hell do you want?" She spit with sufficient venom. Then she turned, giving him one last look at the long line of her back, to grab the towel hanging by a hook on the wall. She pressed the fabric against her breasts and turned to confront him again. "How did you get in here?"

With a smug look of triumph he held up his hand to show her the key dangling from his finger. "It wasn't difficult. The hotel staff left it sitting on the desk downstairs."

"Get out!"

"Why?" He asked with sincerity. "I'm perfectly content where I am. Would you like me to towel you dry?" A hungry expression lit his face as he gazed at her half-naked form. He took a small step forward and she quickly held out her hand to stop his advancing.

"I mean it, John. You're not welcomed here."

He smiled slowly and tossed the key on top of the dresser that stood next to him; his suit coat quickly followed. Then he began to unbuckle his shoulder holster. "You deceive yourself Alex. I have the feeling that is not what you mean at all." He placed the gun on the dresser and quickly unbuttoned his vest as he took another step forward.

"You're drunk." She stated the obvious.

He gave a subtle shake of is head. "No. I'm very drunk actually." His cravat and pin came off next, both he placed in his vest pocket.

Fascinated by his impudence, Alex watched him advance. The man was obviously delusional. Didn't he know what she could do to him if she wanted to? "If you think I'm going to let you touch me, you are sadly mistaken. I might be naked but I am far from helpless."

He leered at her and actually licked his lips as he tossed his vest on top of gun. "You don't really want to fight me, Alex. What you really want is for me to ease that hot ache between your legs."

He took another step and felt the leg of his pants brush against the metal tub. The smell of her freshly washed skin made him light headed with anticipation, but he held back from touching her. They simply stared at one another. Her gaze spoke a hundred contrary things to him, but at no time did he find a resolution in her eyes.

Finally, he reached out with one finger and lightly, slowly, slid it across her shoulder, down her arm, to end at her fingertips. He gently began to peel back her fingers from the hold she had on the towel when her other hand snaked out to slap him soundly across the face. "I said get out!"

His smile only faltered for a second. "No." He whispered back.

When he reached for her again she tried to side step around him by climbing out of the tub, but John's hands were quicker. Before she could object, he grabbed a handful of her hair and leaned in to kiss her angry mouth.

She bit him soundly, drawing fresh blood from his injured lip. The sharp pain made him jerk his head back, giving her the opportunity to voice her objects. "You arrogant son of a bitch!" She spit at him.

He licked the fresh blood off his lip as he looked back at her seething expression. Her spirited objection was having the opposite affect than the one she intended. He felt his groin tightened as he watched the glistening red drop of his blood on her lower lip. He gave her a shameless smile and before she could protest further he leaned in and licked the blood off her mouth as well.

She struggled to free herself but he continued his kiss while slipping his free hand under the towel and between her legs. His eager fingers met an abundant flow of her warm fluid and he issued a satisfying groan as he started to stoke her. She pushed hard against his shoulders and chest but he held his position while slipping one finger inside her body.

Her grunts and squeals of disapproval escalated as she protested against his assault, but he refused to release her mouth. She tried to pull back and away from his invading hand but he managed to hold her by grasping the golden down between her legs. In retaliation, she screamed her indignation against his mouth and bit him again.

He ignored the pain in his lip as he slid his hand further between her legs to rub her from stem to stern coating her entirely with her wetness. He felt the pressure against his mouth ease somewhat, which he took as a positive sign and rubbed her fully again several more times. When he next dipped his tongue into her mouth he was not met with resistance.

He continued to conquer her body by returning to the source of her pleasure to massage her firmly. She moaned into his mouth so he loosened his grip on her hair, slid his hand to the back of her neck and kissed her harder. This triggered another physical reaction within her and he groaned with approval when he felt her body sag against his while her hands shifted from pushing against his shoulders to gripping his shirt for support. Victory was just moments from his grasp. He trailed his fingers from the front of her groin to the very back of her bottom, pressed firmly against the muscles of her ass, and brought his hand forward again in the same manner.

"Oh, God." She cried softly, as she arched against him.

It was the signal he had been waiting for. His one hand slid behind her back while the other cradled her legs. He lifted her from the tub, enjoying the sounds of the water cascading off her graceful limbs before carrying her to the bed. Carefully, he leaned over her and allowed her to unbutton his shirt and pants.

"I really hate you." She hissed when he finally covered her with his body.

"I know. I really hate me too."

Those were the final words spoken before their joining took them both to a place where words were meaningless.

* * *

Whenever she tried to move away from him, he would reach for her and begin to make love to her again. Alex had made three efforts to get out of the bed and each time John became more insistent that she remain within the circle of his arms. Truthfully, after the second time she wasn't so eager to leave. The third attempt was really to test his resolve, and as usual he didn't disappoint her.

Doc had not only showed her how sorry he was but he continued to tell her over and over again in soft pleading whispers how he felt. Now that she was thoroughly satisfied, physically and emotionally, all she really wanted to do was sleep. But he continued to caress her and after a moment more of ignoring him she finally gave in and rolled onto her side to face him.

"Do you forgive me?" He asked before sucking on the tip of her finger.

She tried to ignore the seductive imagine of her finger slipping in and out of his mouth. "Yes."

He sighed once with relief and shook his head. "It was a terrible idea."

"Yes, it was." She agreed while skimming the outline of his mouth with her now thoroughly wet finger. When she paused over the small scar on his upper lip he bit her lightly drawing a soft cry of pain and pleasure from her.

"I don't suppose you'd give me the time and the opportunity to devise a better one?"

She chuckled lightly at his cocky attitude and mouthed the word no.

He sighed with frustration. "Very well, I shall just have to keep seducing you until you're too pregnant to leave. Do you think that would work?"

Her smile grew substantially as she envisioned his idea. "Yes, I believe that would work."

"I thought as much." He started to lean in to kiss her again but stopped short. "You're not pregnant now, are you Alex?"

Alex looked back at his alarmed expression and tried hard to suppress the chuckle threatening to break free. "Unfortunately, I'm not."

"But you would tell me if you were? I mean… you wouldn't leave and not tell me, would you?"

She reached up to caress the worried look off his face. "No, John. I would never to that to you."

He grunted with satisfaction. "What will you do when you get home? Will you go back to work with the Guardians?"

His question had taken her by surprise. Alex hadn't taken the time to think about her future. Her energies had been entirely focused on stopping Malachi for so long the idea of future possibilities hadn't occurred to her. "I...uh…I'm not sure. I guess I'll go home first, to Maine, and think about what I want."

"What about teaching? You could reapply at that school in your hometown."

She studied his expression carefully. His questions were more than just curiosity and concern. Underneath his mild inquires was a deeper need looking to be resolved. "Yes, I could. Why do you ask?"

He shrugged lightly and dropped his eyes to the side. "After you're gone I want to be able to imagine what you're doing and where you'll be. It will give me something good to think about, something to hold onto."

_Oh God, will this ever get any easier?_ "I see." She replied through the lump of emotion caught in her throat. "In that case, I can tell you that I doubt very much that I'll return to the Guardians and to active duty. I'm tired of fighting and I'm tired of seeing things man was never suppose to see, let alone hunt and kill. I would like very much to teach and will probably do so in my hometown while living in my parents home. I like it there. It has always given me a sense of peace being around familiar things."

"And what of marriage and children?" His fingers began to mindlessly caress her hand and arm.

"No. I will never marry again."

He raised one eyebrow at her. "Never say never, Alex. It will get you into trouble every time."

"No one could ever take your place, John." She replied quickly, easily and with a large measure of resolve.

A shocked, painful expression crossed his face before he could glance away. "I'm flattered by your high opinion of me, although I find it contrary. I drink too much, spend my money unwisely, associate with the lowest forms of humanity, bully you and dominate you just to get my way, and to top things off, I drug you and then kidnap you, and still you feel I am irreplaceable."

"Sum id quod sum."

Her quick reply in Latin made him focus on her again and laugh. "I am what I am." He translated easily. "Are you telling me you're a woman of questionable ethics?"

"My friends and relations would tell you I have a very solid principals." Her reply was rewarded with a kiss.

"I could never ask you to not marry, Alexis, my heart would break more if I thought of you being alone, especially with no children. I know how much you want them."

"It would be difficult to deny myself the pleasure of motherhood. But in my time, John, women have babies outside of marriage all the time, and they do it because they choose too."

He raised both brows at her shocking statement. "And society approves of this?"

"Hmm, lets just say that it's not the black taboo it is in this century."

"I want you to have my babies." He announced while reaching to play with a lock of her hair. "Stay here with me."

She looked away from his face and the naked longing she recognized there. "We are going in circles again."

"You promised me you'd think about it." The irritated tone was back in his voice, bordering on the edge of anger. "That if the situation changed you would consider staying."

"What has changed?" She asked in a voice laced with counterfeit calmness. Hoping… hoping... that she would finally hear the three little words that would transform her life.

"You're free now. Malachi is finally at rest. Why go back to a world that holds no ties for you?"

_Wrong three words,_ she thought, as she looked away quickly, afraid he would see the disappointment and pain she felt. "I have family and friends who need me. Besides, it would still be wrong if I stayed."

He waited until the urge to scream at her passed, and as he struggled with his temper reality sudden smacked him on the head. _Fool! It's not a matter of right and wrong. She doesn't want to stay with you._ Before he could help himself a bitter laugh broke free.

He turned away from her and sat up on the edge of the bed. Why hadn't he thought of this before? She was from the future and in her time she had every convenience, every comfort she could hope for. From what Alex had told him about her world, travel was easier and faster, music and theater were readily available, education and study were everyday events, and medicine was vastly superior to the nineteenth century. Even the climate was controlled, so that no one was ever hot or cold. He continued to chuckle softly as he rolled a smoke. How stupid, and how egotistical he was to not have considered this. He should have known that a woman as refined as Alex wouldn't want to leave her modern world and spend the rest of her life in a primitive environment, and in the company of a socially rejected dentist with a criminal history.

"You're right, " he said while keeping his back turned toward her, "and I've been wrong for pressuring you." He struck a match and smoked in silence for moment. "I won't ask you again. Let's just enjoy the time we still have together."

His causal admission cut her to her soul. A sharp pain shot through her chest threatening to explode in a fresh round of tears and anger. She wanted to scream and rage at him for his arrogance and stupidity. How could he expect her to give up her world and everything that was familiar and take up housekeeping with a man who didn't even love her? It would be a hugh gamble if she accepted his offer and a bad one at that. Doc of all people should know better.

The manner in which he turned away from her and chuckled so strangely only confirmed her suspicions. The fight was over. _So that's it then,_ she thought. _He'll just enjoy me; like he would enjoy a well-cooked meal, or aged brandy and then he'll let me go._ It was clear to her that Doc intended to keep his heart sealed rather than share it with her, and she had been a fool to offer hers to him on a silver platter. Alex knew without a doubt he wouldn't ask her again. They had come to the end of the long path they had walked together, and in a matter of a split second she had witnessed the conclusion of their affair. She stared at his back for several minutes and said nothing. It would do very little good to argue about this now. She should leave with her dignity intact, rather then bare her bleeding soul to a man who didn't love her. _Maybe it's better this way. _

She sat up and reached around his shoulders and pressed her naked breasts against his back. She gave his cheek a quick kiss and murmured in his ear, "Thank you." His body shuddered slightly, which Alex contributed to the contact of skin against skin. Then she released him, stretched out on the bed and closed her eyes as exhaustion took over.

When she pressed her warm breasts against his back and thanked him so sweetly for not making her departure more difficult, Doc struggled to hold in the pain that physically shook his body. _Breathe in, breathe out, _he silently chanted. _Don't collapse until after she's gone._ He snubbed out his smoke and stretched out along side her body. She instantly rolled toward him and arranged her limbs comfortably against him. Doc sighed with fatigue and kissed her. "I will miss you, Alexis." He admitted.

She was quiet for several minutes. Her soft fingering of the hair on his chest his only clue that she was still awake and attentive. Finally, when he thought he couldn't stand her silence a moment longer she reached for his face and turned his cheek for one kiss. "I will miss you too, John Holliday."

Long after she had fallen asleep, Doc remained awake and thoughtful, as he tried desperately to understand her heart and the tears she had left on his shoulder.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading and don't forget to leave me a review. I'll have more to post soon. **


	63. A Muddled Affair

**Chapter 62 – A Muddled Affair**

Allie Earp started the day in a bad mood. She didn't try to explain to her husband why she felt this way, and after seven long years of marriage Virgil knew better than to ask. The dark mood she was in had been coming on since her husband's return with Alex and Doc. Secretly, she had hoped that Doc's extremely romantic, but also dramatic maneuver, would trigger some kind of change in Alex's present circumstance, but it hadn't. It seemed almost impossible but the situation had actually taken a turn for the worse. Allie had thought the gambler would be in a full-blown rage at his failed kidnapping scheme, and desperate to find another way to keep Alex in this century, but that wasn't the case at all. Doc now appeared to accept that she was leaving. It was painfully apparent that he was sad, but he was no longer trying to convince her to stay. By tonight Alex would be forever beyond Doc's reach and no one, including her stubborn husband, was trying to talk her into staying.

Disgusted by these dark events, Allie looked out the window at the bright sunshine and the robin egg blue sky, muttered a curse word Virgil would hesitate to speak aloud in a saloon, and closed the drapes.

"Do you want bacon with your eggs?" She asked her husband.

"If you feel like frying bacon, sweetheart, that would be fine with me."

She huffed loudly and rephrased her question while she poured his coffee. "Virgil, your empty stomach and my mood have got nothing in common. Do you want the damn bacon or not?"

"Only if you promise not to hit me with the frying pan until after you've poured out the hot grease." His attempt at humor earned him a small grin. He quickly set down his paper and pulled his wife onto his lap. "If you're going to cry, I wish you would get it done and be over with it."

Allie set the hot coffee pot on the table and exclaimed, "I'm not a crying woman, Virgil, and you know it." Then she burst into tears.

He held her until she was through. "I know, Allie girl, I'm going to miss her too."

"I don't understand it." She sobbed. "Alex should stay with us, Virg. It's wrong for her to leave. And Doc… God, I can only imagine how he must be feeling. That poor man has had so little love in his life. He deserves some happiness."

"I thought you didn't like Doc?"

She sniffed loudly and frowned at him. "I never said that."

"But you said… oh, never mind." He mumbled. "Doc's strong. He'll get over it… eventually."

"Says you." She snapped and jumped up from his lap. "He's not as strong as you think. Underneath that sarcastic exterior is a man in need of love and care."

"Did Alex say what time they were leaving?"

"At sunset, from inside the church." She set a large slab of bacon in the pan and placed it on the stove. "We said our goodbyes yesterday, but…" she turned to look at her husband. "I want to see her today, Virgil. Will you take me?"

He ran a hand over his face and then took a sip of his coffee. "Doc's not going to like all this commotion. It'll interfere with his time with her, and you know how possessive he can be."

"One little visit won't…"

He quickly interrupted, "By you, and then Josie, Wyatt, and Morgan… Shoot, I haven't seen Morgan that upset since the family dog died. Doc was fit to be tied last night. He had a romantic dinner planned and every five minutes someone was knocking on his door. Then finally, when he thought everyone had said their peace, and he could finally have Alex all to himself, a half dozen of those damn Guardians came marching into the hotel. The hotel clerk was so startled he ran out the backdoor and didn't stop until he found me at the jail. I had a hell of a time convincing him to calm down. Now if you…"

"Virgil!" Allie snapped. "You're rambling again, get to the point, can I go see her or not?"

He sighed loudly, "What I'm trying to tell you is Doc wants her all to himself. Leave them alone, Allie. If you go over there you'll just get to crying again, which will only set Alex to crying, and then Doc will…"

She waved her hands at him. "Okay, I get your point." She picked up the frying pan, stirred the bacon around and then slammed the pan back onto the stove.

Virgil eyeballed her hostile movements and came to a resolution. "I'm going to work." He swallowed the last of his coffee as he rose from the table.

"What about your breakfast?"

"I've just lost my appetite."

* * *

Alex rolled onto her back and stretched her long limbs. She turned her head to seek the man who shared the bed and found that he had rolled away from her during his sleep. "Well, this won't do." A warm seductive smile spread across her face as she scooted over to spoon in behind him.

Gingerly, her hands sought him, landing first on his thigh before skating over the smooth skin on his ass, rounding to the top of his hip, and then over to press against his lower stomach. Her fingers nestled in the course hair she found there while she planted soft wet kisses on his shoulder.

"I'm awake, Alex and have been thus for quite some time."

She bit him soundly on his shoulder blade for playing possum, noting that the bones along his back were not as protruding as they once had been. _He's putting on weight_. The thought made her smile despite the heartache that was growing in her chest.

Since there was no need to gently wake him, Alex proceeded with her plan as she rose up and leaned on her elbow to peek over his shoulder. When she saw his solemn expression the ache in her chest flared making it very hard for her breath. The full ashtray next to the bed confirmed his statement. "Were you awake all this time?"

He sighed once and turned his head to glance at her from the corner of his eye. "Couldn't sleep."

"Did my snoring disturb you?"

He chuckled softly at her wit. "I don't know how your husband got any rest at all."

"Very funny, John." She replied dryly. "Well, since you're awake and attentive…" Her hand on his lower stomach took a dip further south and found he was ready for her. He didn't immediately roll toward her so Alex cuddled in deeper behind him and buried her face against his back. She breathed in deeply as she tried to create a memory of this moment and the warm spicy aroma of his skin. She began to fondle him, wanting him to ache, and arch against her hand. Delicately, she made the mental connection she needed and began to stir his passion in a way that would drive him into a temporary madness.

Doc hissed in his breath as the ache between his legs suddenly jumped from pleasant foreplay to an overwhelming hunger that he was sure would send him over the edge. "Oh, God, Alex not again." He arched his back and leaned against her until he was almost lying on top of her.

"Why not?" She asked with sweet innocence while her hand skimmed up and down between his legs. "Don't you like it?" She was barely touching him, but the places where she did make contact were the most sensitive and erotic. "I didn't hear you complaining last night."

She was right, he hadn't complained the least little bit last night. At least, not after he finally had her alone.

He had a hell of a time keeping his patience as visitor after visitor came knocking on his door. For a while he wondered if he would ever get any personal time with Alex. But once she had received all of the well-wishers who came to say goodbye to her, Doc finally had her alone.

The meal he had ordered stood cold and just barely picked over. Neither he nor Alex had much of an appetite, but he didn't care that the food was wasted. It was the symbolic gesture that mattered. Only the wine had been consumed with relish. For an hour or more he enjoyed watching the glazed expression that came with from the alcohol induced respite she found. Then like all things it ended, leaving behind a shadow of sadness in her eyes.

They had talked for hours, just the two of them sitting at the table like old friends, drinking, talking, laughing at each other's stories and occasionally crying when the liquor wore off. Consequently, she would tell him to open another bottle and it would start all over again. Somewhere in between the hours he had taken her to bed and it was there that she showed him another aspect of her gift. When she finally let him breathe he asked her when and with who did she discovered her new talent.

"With you, John. It evolved when I met you."

It had taken all his strength not to sob like a fool and ruin the evening.

After she fell asleep he sat on the bed and watched her. The hours ticked by, and the ashtray filled up, but still he found no rest.

Evidently, rest wasn't on Alex's agenda either. His little cook had woken from her nap rather hungry. He was, however, confused as to why she would wonder if he…

His body gave an involuntary jerk before he could answer. "Like it? My God woman, I think you've cornered the market."

She laughed softly before biting him soundly on the shoulder and then soothing the tender spot with the tip of her tongue. "Want me to stop?" She teased.

"Indeed not, but…" He rolled away from her and broke contact. One glance toward the curtained window told him that his time with her was not yet at an end. Bright rays of sunshine still leaked in through the cracks. Angel and Spike couldn't leave until sunset; until the sun went down she was still his. After then… He refused to think about afterwards. He'd have all the time in the world to mourn for her after tonight.

He turned around to face her and smiled at the picture she presented. She lay on her back with her breasts exposed, begging for his attention, and the bedding spooled in caressing folds around her hips. One hand lay arched along side her head, the other down by her side. Her hair…. God, would he ever survive not seeing that mass of blonde waves… was fanned out across the pillows of the bed and draped sensually over her shoulders. A single delicate tress, he noted, was curled around one pert nipple. It was that nipple that received his affections first.

He loved her slowly despite the efforts she made to urge him on. In the end it was he who drove her to another realm, and all the while he watched her face, memorized the lines of her brows, the seductive gleam in her eyes, the soft shape of her mouth and the curves of her neck and chin. Finally, with a sigh of satisfaction, he cupped her against his body and drifted into a deep-peaceful sleep.

When he woke up hours later he discovered the sun had set and Alex had quietly slipped away.

* * *

After her husband's abrupt departure, Allie finally settled her anger. There was a kind of therapeutic comfort in her daily routine. First she washed the breakfast dishes, wiped the table and swept the floor. Then she started in on her laundry. Three loads later and she was feeling much calmer. She was just hanging out the last load to dry when several shadows fell across her wet sheets. She let out a startled cry and turned around sharply to find Father Martin, his alter boy, Javier and two oriental men standing behind her.

The priest bowed low. "I'm sorry if we frightened you, Mrs. Earp."

Allie let out a nervous laugh and smoothed her hair. "I guess we're all a little on edge still. What brings you to this side of town, Father?"

A wide grin lit his face. "A promise, Mrs. Earp. Alexis wanted me to give something to you and your family. If you'll follow me to the front yard I'll explain everything."

It was a struggle for the four men to lift the chest from the wagon and carry it into the house. They barely got inside the front door when their strength gave out. "That's fine, Father. You can leave it right there, but perhaps you had better tell me what this is all about."

"It is a gift, Mrs. Earp. A tremendous gift from a very good friend." He gestured to the chest. "Please, open the lid."

Allie gave the priest a strange look but did as he requested. She knelt on the floor, tilted back the wooden lid and got the shock of her life. For several seconds she couldn't speak let alone draw breath. With trembling hands she reached out and picked up one of the silver rocks. "Good Lord, where did all this come from?"

Father Martin chuckled softly as he leaned over to help the flustered woman to her feet. "I have a letter to give you that will explain everything. Let me make you a cup of tea while you read it." Gently, he led her to the kitchen leaving his three companions to wait for him at the wagon.

* * *

Right after Alex slipped out of Doc's bed, she finished the last few items on her checklist. Carefully, she placed the box that held her toothbrush and other dental items on the table where he would find it. Beside the box she placed her goodbye note. Then she stood by the bed and gazed down at Doc's peaceful form for a full five minutes as she tried to memorize every aspect of his face. Her tears she had managed to hold at bay, but the ache in her chest only continued to grow with each breath she took. Finally, when she couldn't stand the pain any longer, she leaned down and kissed him one last time.

Out in the hallway she sat and cried until another guest disturbed her privacy. When he offered to help she quickly departed before she drew more unnecessary attention. Her last errand would be almost as painful as leaving Doc, but there was no getting out of it. She wanted to make sure her last card had been played and she also wanted to see her friend one last time.

* * *

It had been hours since the priest had left her alone with this tremendous gift, but Allie still sat at the kitchen table reading the letter Alex had written to her over and over again. In between reading the pages, she would sit on the floor in front of the chest and stare at her fortune. She was rich. Really rich, and so were the other members of her family. The shock of this notion kept spinning around and around in her head. Why had Alex left all of this silver for them?

She looked at the dusky sky as the last rays of sunlight gave way to the evening's stars. Virgil would be home any minute and she had yet to start making his dinner. Then she remembered that Doc, Wyatt and that Marcus woman had been invited to supper. She had company coming, and no idea what to cook. _Fuck it_, she thought. _We're rich enough that we can go out to eat. _But that concept gave her little pleasure. Actually, instead of feeling eager to share this news with her husband and brother-in-law, she had the strong instinct to hide it, at least for a little while. Intuitively, she sensed that events were not done unfolding, and as Doc would say, it was not yet time to show her hand.

She rose quickly from the table, fetched an old tablecloth from the kitchen cupboard and draped it over the chest of silver. On top she placed her sewing basket. Satisfied that she had sufficiently hidden her secret from her husband she then turned her attention to starting dinner. Meatloaf and potatoes, she decided, was common enough for Josephine Marcus to eat. Lord knows she didn't like that woman enough to treat her to one of the fancier dishes Alex had taught her to cook. However, anxiety still plagued her mind as she tossed fresh wood into the stove. When would she be able to tell Virgil about their fortune, and why had Alex left all this silver for them? The answer to her questions came with a sudden knock on her back door.

"Alex?" Allied didn't have to ask if her friend was still leaving. Her tear-streaked face was answer enough. She held out her arms and wrapped them around the troubled woman. "Oh, sweetheart, don't cry."

"I can't help it." Alex sniffed. "It just keeps pouring out of me." She handed her the cloth bundle she held in her hand. "I brought back your dresses. Thank you for lending them to me."

Allie took the bundle from her and tossed it thoughtlessly to the floor. "Forget the damn dresses." She said as she guided her to the table. "I'm glad to see you, even if you're upset. But you're going to have to explain to me why you're bawling your heart out and yet you're still determined to leave." She poured two glasses of scotch and sat down opposite of Alex. "Oh, and by the way, thank you for the fortune in silver."

Allie's offhanded comment made Alex chuckle. "You're welcome."

"I'll make sure it's spent well, you can be sure of that."

Alex gave her a small smile. "No need to worry about that. There's a ton of silver still un-harvested from that mine. Virgil is going to have to quit his day job."

Allie chuckled in reply. "Forget about the silver, and tell me why you're crying."

Alex's lower lip quivered as fresh tears filled her eyes. "He doesn't love me, Allie. I don't want to leave. I want to stay here, but… I can't stay with a man who doesn't love me."

Shocked into silence, Allie sat back in her chair as alarm bells went off in her head. "Wait a minute… Did Doc tell you he didn't love you?"

Alex shook her head as she dried her eyes. "No, just the opposite, he never told me he loved me."

"And that's why you're leaving?"

Alex nodded. "If you were me, would you stay?"

Allie looked away thoughtfully. "No… no I wouldn't stay either."

"Burdening you with my sob story was not the reason I came here tonight. I just wanted to make sure you received my message and I wanted to say goodbye in person. Thank you for everything you've done for me, Allie. You've been a really good friend." Alex stood up to take her leave.

"Wait," Allie quickly said as she rose from the table, "can't you stay another day or two. It might give Doc the time he needs."

Alex shook her head again. "Angel's made up his mind. He wants to leave tonight. Besides Doc's had plenty of time to tell me how he feels. Our relationship had gone as far as it can, I guess."

_Not if I have my way it won't,_ Allie thought. "What did he say when you told him goodbye?"

"I didn't tell him. I left him a note instead." She replied as she walked to the back door.

Allie almost rolled her eyes with frustration. Could this situation get any more muddled? If ever Romeo and Juliet needed a hand, tonight would be the one and only time to give fate a good hard push. "When are you leaving?"

"I told Angel and Spike I would meet them at the church. We're going to open a portal from inside to keep our exposure to a minimum."

"Are you sure you don't want to go back to the hotel first and tell Doc goodbye in person."

Alex quickly shook her head as tears filled her eyes again. "No. I'll just make a fool of myself if I do. It's better this way, Allie. He won't be pressured to say things he doesn't mean and I'll keep my dignity. Will you tell the others I said goodbye?"

"Sure." She whispered as her own tears came to the surface.

"Take care of Doc for me, if he'll let you."

"He won't, but I'll try anyway. Goodbye, Alexis. Thank you for all that you've done for us. I hope you get home all right."

"No worries. Angel's well-prepared." She waved farewell once more and walked off into the darkness.


	64. Luck

**Chapter 63 - Luck**

The final rays of light cast a glaze of red, orange and gold colors over the land, blending it with the approaching shadows of night. A soft wind blew away the gentle warmth of the afternoon sun, leaving behind a clean crispness to the evening air. A small field mouse emerged from its hole to begin a night of foraging for food. It scampered only a few feet before stopping to consume a treasure of seeds dropped from an overhanging pine tree. From the distance two horses with riders approached at a run, startling the unfortunate mouse. As quick as he could, the furry scavenger shoved his dinner in the pocket of his cheeks and ran for the safety of his hole.

Smiling brightly at her companion, Josephine Marcus dismounted from her horse before Wyatt could offer her assistance. Standing back from the animal she shook out her skirts, smoothed her hair, and straightened her hat. "That was lovely, Wyatt. I always have so much fun when I ride with you."

"Josie, you ride like the devil himself was on your trail." He reached for her arm, slipping his hand under her elbow. "Sometimes, darlin', you scare me to death." Gently, he pulled her around so that stood face to face, holding her close so that he could kiss her cheek and smell the perfume in her hair.

"Fun through, wasn't it?" She whispered into his mouth.

"Always with you."

"Wyatt? Is that you?" Virgil called as he opened the door and stepped onto the front porch. "Are you two going to stand outside kissing all night? It took you long enough getting here, thought we'd have to wait on you and I'm hungry."

Wyatt rolled his eyes at his brother's one-track mind. "Virgil, is your stomach all you can think about right now?" He lightly quipped. Inwardly, Wyatt wasn't feeling so festive. Tonight was bound to be pure hell. Not only would he have to deal with his best friend's broken heart, but his sister-in-law was sure to be just as upset. Wyatt scrutinized his brother's expression and tried to gage what the mood might be inside his small cottage. Judging from the deep-set careworn wrinkles around Virgil's eyes and mouth, Wyatt could tell Allie was in rare form tonight. Things were only going to get worse once Doc got here, that is… if he didn't drink himself into a coma first.

With an expression that mirrored Virgil's, Wyatt guided Josie up the steps, onto the small porch and made a closer inspection of Virgil.

"Man can't live off of sex alone, Wyatt. Although, there have been times I was temped to try." His attempt to keep the atmosphere light fell short. Wyatt shot him a questioning glance and Virgil slowly shook his head in reply.

"How bad is it?" Wyatt finally asked in a hushed whisper.

"Remember the time when Ma caught Dad sporting with Dan Batchler's widow, and how dark her mood was afterwards?"

Wyatt winced. "That bad?"

"Worse." He barked. "I've only been home for ten minutes and I've already had a cup and saucer chucked at my head. All I did was ask how she was feeling? Then she proceeds to tell me that goddamn Morgan weaseled his way out of coming tonight. Something to do with Louisa wanting to spend sometime alone. I ought to ring his neck for not being here to lend us a hand." He finally turned to Josie and gave her a polite nod. "Good evening Miss Marcus. Nice of you to join us for dinner, although you may not feel that way once you get inside." He held the door opened and followed them into the house.

Josie placed a comforting hand on his arm. "Please call me Josie, Virgil. After all we've been though there's no reason to stand on formalities."

She floated into the room and went to greet Allie who was busy testing the durability of her good china as she set the dinner table. The plates and silverware were not so much set into strategic positions, but loudly, roughly slammed into place. Josie quickly noticed Allie had six places at the table. Giving the small blond a quick nod hello she asked, "Who else is joining us for dinner?"

Wyatt glanced briefly at the two odd place settings and felt the stirrings of a newly born dark and mournful mood raise its head and growl. "Well, Doc for one… and, if we're lucky, maybe one more." Wyatt replied as he helped Josie take off her riding coat and hat. He wanted to believe that love could overcome great obstacles, and in turn, help boost the morale of his family, but his hopeful words sounded hollow and false even to his own ears.

"Have you've spoken to Doc today Wyatt?" Allie asked most eagerly, hoping that Wyatt might have stirred up the ghost of sanity in the degenerate dentist.

"No, not since late yesterday afternoon, but he said he come. I doubt very much he'll be sober, but I suppose he'll be here, sooner or later."

Unable to check the anxiety in her voice, Allie continued, "And Alex, what about her?"

Wyatt quickly looked away from the painful expression in his sister-in-law's eyes. "I haven't seen her since yesterday when she was with Doc. As far as I know, she's still planning on going home. She said they were going to leave at nightfall."

A fork and knife went sailing across the tabletop and miraculously landed within a half-inch of its destination. "Ah, Wyatt, didn't you even try to talk her into staying?" Her voice elevated an octave as the agitation she was feeling tried to break free.

Wyatt visibly cringed at her tone. "I've got no right interfering, Allie. Her companions were very firm about her decision to leave." He said as gently as he could and not upset his brother's wife any more then she already was. He didn't want to have this conversation but knew it was inevitable. Alex's departure was more upsetting then he was willing to admit.

"Well, obviously, you didn't try hard enough." She huffed as she thumped several water glasses into place.

Wyatt waited until her hands were empty before he responded. "Allie, what was I supposed to say? She doesn't belong here in this time and I got the distinct impression she didn't want to stay."

"Yes, she does! She said…" Allie blurted, before she realized she almost betrayed Alex's trust. "She belongs here with us. Damn it, Wyatt, she belongs with Doc. Those two are made for each other." She had tears in her eyes now and angrily she wiped them away with her apron. "I thought you were his friend. You should have spoken for him and talked her into staying."

Defenseless, Wyatt turned to his brother for protection. "Virgil, a little help here, please?"

Virgil watched his younger brother's interrogation from the small wet bar on the opposite side of the room. He rubbed a worried hand over his face and shook his head. "Sorry Wyatt. I tried to talk some sense into her but she won't listen. She's got some funny idea Alex and Doc should stay together and get married." He answered before returning his attention to the large glass of whiskey he was pouring. Judging from the tension in the room and the low level of alcohol in the bottle, Virgil could tell additional resources would definitely be needed.

Allie had never been so frustrated. She was inches from screaming her secret to the room. _There's been a terrible misunderstanding and our hapless lovers are going to ruin their lives because of it._

She had counted on her husband and Wyatt to intervene and talk some sense into Doc, but apparently that wasn't going to happen. Men could talk to other men in a plain and blunt manner, she, however, could not. Although, she was very tempted to do so just this once. If Virgil hadn't walked through the front door seconds after Alex walked out the backdoor, she would have made a beeline right to Doc's hotel room, but now that her husband was home he would never allow her to interfere, especially by directly confronting Doc about his personal affairs.

Allie glanced at the clock sitting on the fireplace mantel. Precious time was wasting away. Every passing second took Alex further away. What if she's already gone from this era, and was at this very moment standing on a futuristic street or walkway weeping for her love, long lost and dead.

Maybe she should take the chance and meddle into her friends' personal lives. God knows it couldn't get any worse. But years of practiced customs wouldn't allow her to break those unspoken social rules, and it looked like the male members of her family were just as stubborn as Doc was. Unable to determine her next recourse, she glared angrily at her husband and Wyatt. "Men! What good are the lot of you." She groused loudly, turned on her heel and stormed into the kitchen slamming the door closed behind her.

As soon as Allie made her exit, Wyatt helped himself to a large glass of whiskey and poured a smaller one for Josie. "I'm sorry she's upset, Virgil."

"I warned you this would happen, Wyatt. She'll get over it, eventually I suppose. Until then my loving going to be nonexistent."

Josephine Marcus watched the family drama from a discreet distance. It was obvious to her that Virgil's wife knew something important, but for some unknown reason she couldn't relay that information to her husband or brother-in-law. The details of the secret were not important to her. What intrigued her were the charged emotions hanging in the air. The underlying drama woke up the actress in her, prompting her to pick up the torch and help with Allie's cause. _Finally_, she thought, _there's something I can do to help. _

She knew exactly what Allie was attempting to do, but she was going about it all the wrong way. Screaming and throwing expensive china is not the way to get a man to do what you want him to do. When a woman can't reason with a man's intellect there is only one other part of his anatomy that is always alert and open for compromise. Josie could have told Allie this had they been alone, but now was not the time to share feminine secrets. Time was running out. The stage was set, the lamps were lit and her audience was waiting for her to speak her opening line. With her best actress voice and posture she went into action.

"Well, this is so sad." Josie lamented after she accepted her drink from Wyatt and moved to sit on the small settee near the fireplace. She let her eyes well up with tears just enough to wet her lashes and to make her brown eyes look soft and mournful. With a quick flick of her tongue she wet her lips, and let her mouth go soft, lips barely parted, lower lip quivering just the tiniest bit. She reached into her sleeve to retrieve a small hankie and began to dab at her eyes.

"Don't cry Jo." Wyatt said as he slid next to her and gently rubbed his hand up and down her back.

She sniffed loudly and dabbed at her eyes again. "Isn't there something you could do, Wyatt?" She asked with an innocent yet seductive gleam in her eyes.

Wyatt looked into her dark-brown eyes and felt a sudden urge to reshape the world to her liking. He rubbed his hand thoughtfully against his moustache before turning to his brother. "Virgil?"

Virgil blue eyes took on a weary expression before he heaved a loud sigh and reached for his hat. "I just knew I wouldn't be eating a hot meal tonight." When he reached for the door he turned back around to glare at his brother. "Well, come on, Wyatt, we best get a move on before she gets away!" He suddenly stopped his ranting and cocked his head to one side, as the pounding hooves of a running horse grew louder. "Someone coming." Virgil announced and quickly opened the door.

Moments later, an uncharacteristic Doc Holliday rushed through the doorway. The first thing Wyatt noticed was Doc's lack of weapons. The usual shoulder holster and colt were simply missing. He wore only a light woolen suit coat and no hat. The rest of his clothing was equally as strange. His shirt was partially unbuttoned at the collar, and loosely flowing from the waistband of his pants. His routinely combed hair now stuck out at odd angles as if he had just gotten out of bed.

Doc stopped short just beyond the doorway. There was a wild gleam in his light-blue eyes that were streaked with red, either from anger or from crying, Wyatt couldn't tell. Doc said not a word of greeting as he quickly surveyed the room, passing his gaze over Virgil and Josephine before settling on Wyatt. "Is she here?" He asked in a rush.

Wyatt faltered for only a second. "No Doc…. We haven't seen her."

Spiritually, the gambler seemed to collapse inward. He fell into the nearest chair and leaned his head back against the seat with his eyes closed. "I was hoping she would be here waiting for me. I thought maybe, just maybe, I would get lucky."

"Alex wouldn't have left without saying goodbye." Wyatt said as gently as he could.

When Doc raised his head and looked at Wyatt his eyes suddenly filled with unshed tears. "She left me a note and this box." His voice broke with emotion as he showed Wyatt the small rectangular box he held in his hand. Inside, wrapped carefully in a piece of cloth, lay a toothbrush, toothpaste, dental floss, and a small bottle of mouthwash. "She slipped away while I was sleeping." With a trembling hand he reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out an envelope and gave it to Wyatt.

Inside was a single-paged note and a colored photo of Alex. This photo was new to him and had not been part of the photos in her wallet. Wyatt felt the first flush of tears come to his eyes as he gazed down at her likeness.

Alex was standing on the porch of a house, dressed in her dungarees, a soft pink sweater, and holding what appeared to be a mug of hot coffee. Whoever had taken the picture must have been teasing her and managed to capture one of her bright smiles. It was a natural spontaneous pose that left the observer with a distinct impression of Alex's kind personality and sharp but often quirky wit. He turned the picture over and read the caption on the back. _My family home in Maine. _

Wyatt set the photo down and turned his attention to the letter.

_My Dearest John, _

_I've not had much practice saying goodbye. So, I won't break tradition by offering one to you, especially now when my heart aches to the point of breaking. The words would be meaningless, having said all that there is to say to one another, the emotions between us too close to the surface to be moved by reason._

_We both have our burdens to bear. We both know where our responsibilities lie. I intend to fulfill mine, and I pray you have the strength to fulfill yours. I will do what is right. I will do what is required of me. I won't like it, but I will do it just the same._

_So, instead of saying goodbye, I will leave you with some loving words of advice. Go home, John. Go home to your beloved Georgia and to your family. You are no longer haunted by death, and therefore I command you to live. I want you to create a life that is worthy of the gift I have bestowed upon you. It is my fondest hope that you will marry your cousin, Mattie. I am sure if you try, you can persuade her to be your loving wife. Start your dental practice, and raise a big family. Live in peace and happiness. Do it for me, I beg you. _

_From the future I will be watching you. I will be eager to see all of your accomplishments. I will count the number of your children and commit their names to memory, and I will, in secret, wish they could have been mine. Let me read your wife's name in the society papers, so that my envious heart will have fuel to burn. She could never understand how much I longed to take her place. _

_Fate has turned unkind and I am sorry I must leave. Please forgive me. I take a part of you with me, and will hold it very close to my heart until it beats no longer. _

_Lovingly, _

_Alexis_

"My God." Wyatt whispered. Josephine, who had been reading over Wyatt's shoulder, had cast aside all pretenses and was now openly weeping. He placed the paper and photo back into the envelope before handing it back to his friend. "Doc, I'm sorry. What can I do?"

"Do? Why, not a damn thing." He stood and walked to the liquor cabinet for a drink. "When love walks in your life and then decides to walk out, what can you do?"

Allie finally stepped out of the kitchen took one look at Josie crying and Doc's long face and asked, "What happened?"

"Alex left." Virgil mumbled.

Doc gave her Alex's note to read. He crossed the room, turned and raked his hand through his hair. "I'm really at a loss as to what to do next."

"She said she wanted you to go home. Maybe..." Josie offered.

"Easier said then done." Doc interrupted. "I can go home in body, but my heart will not be in it! My heart will be a hundred and twenty-one years in the future. Jesus, it's not fair. Do you realize she can still learn what happens to me, but I've no way to discover if she will be all right? She could be killed or injured and I would never know." He began to pace the room and then finally sank back into his chair. "What am I going to do?" He whispered to himself.

Allie had finished reading the letter. She folded it and looked at Doc with determination. "Couldn't you have said something… anything… to talk her into staying." She hinted.

He shook his head slowly. "She doesn't _want_ to stay, Allie. Why the hell would she want to? Look around you." He waved his hands to illustrate the setting. "Everything in this time, this era, is obsolete, cumbersome, and hopelessly old fashion when compared to her modern world. I've asked her to stay a hundred times, and in a hundred different ways. It finally occurred to me that she didn't want to stay behind in an era that has nothing to offer her but a hard life without all the modern conveniences she is used to. Do you realize she doesn't hand wash her clothes? She puts them in a machine, pushes a button and the clothing is washed, rinsed and wrung out. She then removes those clothes and puts them in a different machine, pushes another button and that gadget dries them. Now I ask you, if you had a choice, would you want to stay here and live in a primitive environment with a social reject like myself?"

Allie's eyes narrowed. "Were those her words or yours? Did she actually tell you that she didn't want to live in this time because it was primitive?"

He issued a bitter laugh. "No… she's too polite, too kind, to hurt me like that." He turned away from the anger displayed on her face and kept his eyes on his glass. "I finally figured this out when we were in Lisbon. After we made up, I asked her again, only this time she refused to answer me directly. I finally realized she was trying to spare my feelings, so I didn't pressure her anymore. But I still had hope she would change her mind. I hoped one of you would talk to her." Finally he looked up at Allie. "You were her friend, why didn't you ask her to stay?"

Allie's lips thinned considerably. _Fuck it_, she thought, _sometimes a woman has got to tell a man where to lean and squat._ "John Holliday, you're an damn idiot! She was here not twenty minutes ago to say goodbye to me. Her heart is broken because she thinks you don't love her."

Virgil mumbled a sharp curse the same time Wyatt uttered, "I knew this misunderstanding would cause trouble," but there was no time to decipher what they meant. Allie ignored all of them as she continued Doc's education. At the moment the look of pure hopeless confusion on his face was only increasing her temper. Finally she asked him pointblank. "Did you even once tell Alex how you feel about her?"

Doc blinked at her. His mouth opened, closed, and opened again, as he tried to form his thoughts into words.

"You didn't, did you?"

Doc sat a little straighter in his chair. "I loved her every chance I got, Allie. Obviously it wasn't enough."

"Men!" She shouted to the heavens. "May God save womankind from stupid, ignorant men!" She placed one hand either hip and glared down at him. "You could make love to her from now to the end of time and it wouldn't matter. Every woman wants and NEEDS to hear the words, Doc."

At that exact moment, a confusing conversation he had with Alex days ago suddenly became very clear.

"_Alex, I don't want you to leave." _

"_Can you give me a reason why I should stay?"_

"_Am I not reason enough for you to want to stay?"_

"_Are there any other reasons?"_

"_I've offered myself and marriage. What more do you want, Alexis? What more is there? Damn you, Alex. I don't understand."_

And at the time he didn't understand, but now….

Now that Allie had pointed it out, Alex's sad words made complete sense. All along she had been waiting for him to confirm his love. She had certainly declared her love for him, after all, he had read about it very plainly in her journal. She had also laid her heart open to him right before the battle. And damn it, he had tried to tell her how he felt about her as well, but the silly goose had fallen asleep right in the middle of his affirmation. Afterwards, he had just assumed she knew how he felt about her. Had he not been begging her to stay with him since the day they met? Didn't he go to one extreme after another to keep her here in this time? Good Lord, could Alex have been that unsure of his heart?

Apparently, yes.

He looked at Virgil's wife with something a kin to wonder. "Oh, my God, you're right. I've been such an idiot."

Allie arched one brow at him and shook her head. "You've got no time to be wallowing in self pity. Get up off your ass and go tell her you love her." She handed him back the envelope.

A small ray of hope began to gleam on his face and Allie smiled. "She's going to open a time portal from inside the church. You had better hurry if you're going to stop her."

Doc blinked twice more as Allie's words began to register. Slowly, he turned to look at Wyatt.

"Better take my horse," Wyatt stated, "it's faster then yours."

_Taking a day at a time  
__Dealing with feelings I don't want to hide_

Doc leaped into the saddle, and spurred the black stallion forward even before his hands had firmly grasped the reins.

_Learning to love as I go, baby  
__Without taking you along for a ride._

He leaned over the horse, bending his body against the animal to minimize wind resistance. The ground seemed to disappear as the horse picked up speed, but it wasn't enough. Kicking harder against the animal's sides he urged him to go faster and the stallion gladly obeyed. The horse's hooves seemed to tick off the passing seconds. Each fleeting moment reminded him how much further Alex was slipping away from him. Eternally lost, and never to be recovered, seen, touched, kissed …

Loved.

He had let his lover slip through his fingers and walk away all because of a misunderstanding. Irony had once again made its ugly presence known.

The paradox was a constant companion throughout his life. One would think that after thirty years of familiarity he would at least be a step or two ahead of the game, but he wasn't. What was it that Alex had told him… that if he could easily interpret his own internal psyche it would take all the fun out of living? In reply he had told her he wanted a normal life and he meant it. Less obscurity, more peace and serenity were the things he yearned for. It had been a foolish thing to say, he knew better than most people that there was no such thing as a normal life. In the end there is only life.

Since his fatal diagnosis he had been avoiding life, normal or otherwise. Like a lit stick of dynamite, he had been waiting for the fuse to burn out, igniting the final explosion. Rather than blowing up in front of his loved ones, he disassociated himself from friends and family so that he could self destruct in the West where the percussion would be minimized. What a quirk of fate that he should find his center, his reason for living, right in the middle of his comic play. A play that would be his undoing all because he was too obtuse to realize that three, one-syllable words could change his life.

He could only imagine what Alex must have thought and felt as she waited all those weeks for his affirmation. He would never be the same if she went back to her time and left him alone, but it would kill him if she lived the rest of her life thinking that he never loved her as she loved him. If he accomplished anything tonight, he at least needed to tell her how he truly feels. Hopefully, and if lady luck were on his side, he would not only be revealing his heart, but also sharing the rest of his life with a very special lady.

He was not a praying man. It was difficult for him to worship a deity who could so easily crush a young man's life even before it began. But the aspect of experiencing something good made him question his prejudice. Never had he wanted something so badly as he wanted Alexis. Without realizing what he was doing, mindless sounds escaped his lips forming the words, "please, please", until he realized he had just uttered his first prayer in years.

_Tried to find myself  
__Tried to find the truth  
__Get out from this shell_

Even though he kept a sharp lookout for the approaching church, a part of his mind was preoccupied reliving the weeks he had enjoyed with Alex, replaying all the images he could remember since first laying eyes on her. He recalled the day they met when Wyatt pulled off that dirty cap she wore in an attempt to hide her gender, spilling her hair around her shoulders.

The memory of her standing in that tub in Lisbon he would take to his grave. He could clearly see Alex wet from her bath. He remembered her smell. Hell, he could still taste her clean skin. Their joining that day had been so bittersweet, filled with passionate anger, tender sadness, and the ache of realizing how badly he had hurt her. Why didn't he tell her then and there what she meant to him. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

Over and over as the black stallion ran, Doc relived each and every moment he experienced with Alex. Alex cooking. Alex joking and laughing with him. Alex sitting at his faro table as she silently watched him work. Alex exhausted and stinking of cabbage. Alex in full combat, her body kicking and turning in ways he never though possible as she skillfully killed one vampire after another. Alex naked in his bed, her hair in disarray over his pillows and her face flushed with the passion they both shared.

He remembered everything, and at each moment his heart broke a little more.

_Girl I'm almost there  
__To show you how much I really care_

He whispered to the stallion promising him buckets of oats and hours of brushing if he could go a little faster. The black horse snorted a reply and increased his speed.

_If you go, say goodbye  
There'll be something missing in life  
_'_cause you know  
__That all I really want is you_

In the distance, rising out of the darkness, Doc could finally see the lights emanating from the small Catholic Church. He sent another prayer to the heavens. "Alex, please wait for me."

Several dozen candles softly illuminated the inside of the church. Sitting in the last pew of the sanctuary, Father Martin knelt deep in prayer. He had little faith though, that this particular prayer would be answered. Still, all things have a time and a season through God's good graces, but the thought gave him little comfort tonight. He grasped the rosary in his hand a little harder – the beautiful garnet rosary Alex had tearfully given him right before she left – and began his Hail Mary again.

When he heard the approaching sound of running horse, he ran to open the front doors of the church and quickly stepped outside. The horse was pulled up sharply as the gambler spun the strained animal around.

"Stop her!" Doc ordered.

The disarray of the rider did not surprise the priest. Father Martin waved his hands in an effort to calm the agitated man. "She's not here." He said without thinking.

The shock of his statement vibrated through Doc's body causing him to sway in the saddle. "Oh, God, I'm too late." He cried through a fresh veil of tears.

* * *

_**Lyrics for "If You Go" by Jon Secada & Miguel Morejon, recorded for Jon Secada's 1994 album "Heart, Soul, & a Voice". I make no claims and ask for no rewards.**_


	65. We Must Prepare

**Chapter 64 – We Must Prepare**

"Oh, God, I'm too late."

"No. No. You misunderstand me." Father Martin instantly corrected. "They could not open this portal from inside the church, so they are walking back to the original area where Alex first entered our time. If you hurry, you can still over take them. They are not but five minutes ahead of you."

"Where Father?"

"By the old Stevenson mine." He pointed out the way, but Doc didn't notice. He had already kicked the stallion into a dead run.

As the priest watched the horse and rider blend into the night he began to smile. Then he grinned like a madman, and finally he laughed loudly, raised his arms heavenward and shouted, "Oh, thank you Lord!" He turned and ran into the church screaming, "Javier! Javier, we have work to do! Get your lazy legs moving and begin to clean this church. We must prepare."

The young boy, known as Javier, looked out from an open doorway near the church's altar, clearly alarmed by the priest's excited behavior. "What is it Father? What's going to happen?"

"What's going to happen?" Father Martin echoed while draping an affectionate arm across the boy's shoulders. "Silly child, why a wedding of course, and we haven't a moment to lose. Go and fetch your bucket and rags! We need to have this chapel clean enough for Saint Peter himself to pay us a visit."

* * *

Alex walked in silence between Angel and Spike. She held her head high in an effort to show the two men she was strong and resolved in her decision, but in reality her heart had crashed to the very bottom of her soul after leaving Doc sleeping soundly at the hotel. The numbing pain she was feeling might be considered a blessing. In an abstract way, it was making her strong enough to follow through with what she needed to do. Walking would have been next to impossible if given the chance to dwell on her feelings. Although, it was terribly hard to realize that in another five minutes she would be mourning another lover. Alive one minute and dead the next, but that was life, wasn't it? Why then did she feel like a murderer by leaving Doc behind?

"It'll feel good to be home again." Angel announced as he tried his best to lighten the mood.

Spike took up the torch and replied, "I could go for one of those blooming onion things and a pitcher of beer." He glanced at Alex from the corner of his eye and saw her lower lip quiver right before she bit it hard.

"Good idea." Angel replied. "How about a movie afterwards. There's a dozen or so I've been meaning to see." He heard Alex sniff back her tears and wipe at the corner of her eye with a white hanky. He didn't have to ask where she got the handkerchief, even in the moonlight he could plainly see the embroidered initials 'JHH'. "Well, how about it Alex? Do you feel like going to a movie?"

"Yeah, sure, why not. As long as it's not a love story."

Any hope Angel had to cheer her up suddenly pierced his heart like a wooden arrow. He signed heavily, reached for her arm and stopped walking. "Alex, it never would have worked, you know that." He replied in a firm but gentle tone.

Alex gave him the briefest of glances. She was reluctant to make direct eye contact; afraid that the well of emotions she was feeling would burst free if she acknowledged his sympathy. "You're wrong Angel, it would have worked." She lamented. "If he had truly wanted me, it would have worked. That's what makes it so painful." She pulled away from his embrace and continued onto her destination.

Angel tried to think of a comforting reply as he watched Alex walk ahead, but came up empty. Sometimes words were more painful than silence. He glanced over at Spike and noticed the younger vampire studying Alex with interest. "What is it?"

"Doubt." He said in a hushed whisper. "I can't shake the feeling that this is a mistake, Angel. Maybe she should stay behind. You can't deny that she loves him."

Angel's lips thinned into a fine line. "Can't I? He let her walk, Spike, don't you forget that. If she was that damn important, he would never have let her go."

"Funny, I thought that's what the bloke was doing when he tried to whisk her away." Spike retorted.

A flash of uncertainty crossed Angel's face as Spike's words sank in. "This is for the best." Angel repeated more for himself then for Spike. "There's been enough talk, let's go home."

"Home to what, I wonder?" Spike mumbled as he followed Angel into the darkness.

Alex abruptly stopped walking and looked around the landscape in an effort to get her bearings. "Over there. That's where I landed." She pointed to a narrow pathway of stones in between a large group of boulders.

"Are you sure?" Angel asked as he followed her to the rock formation.

"About ninety percent sure, but it was really dark when I fell…" Her voice faded and she gave him a light shrug.

"Well, there's only one way to find out. If the portal doesn't open, we'll just have to keep looking."

"You're right. Let's get this over with." She sighed as she took her position between the two men. She repositioned her bag and Malachi's bag a little higher on her shoulder, and watched as Angel reached into his pocket to retrieve the paper Wesley had written the spell on.

Wesley's clear, neat writing was easy to read in the moonlight. Silently, Angel practiced the words first, making sure he had the pronunciation and rhythm just so. "I hope Wesley knows what he's doing?" He mumbled.

"Have faith. Old pinhead hasn't been wrong yet." Spike replied.

"Yeah, you're right." He agreed, feeling a little more secured about Wesley's spell. "Ready?" He asked. He waited until Alex nodded before he began to speak in Latin the first verse of the spell.

Alex's heart was pounding so loudly in her ears that at first she couldn't differentiate between that noise and a new sound that mocked the stillness of the night air. Obviously she was hearing things. She closed her eyes against the tears that threatened to over take her senses, when she noticed the sound was growing louder. Her eyes snapped open. No, she wasn't mistaken. In the distance she clearly heard a horse running hard. Without glancing way from the shadowy landscape before her, she reached out and placed her hand over the paper Angel was reading.

A small cloud of dust was quickly growing and coming straight towards them. Alex pulled the paper from Angel's hand, crumbled it into a small ball and dropped it at his feet.

"Alex?" Angel inquired.

Alex ignored him. Without taking her eyes off the horizon, she slipped the bags from her shoulder and let them drop to the ground. With long quick strides she walked steadily to meet what she hoped would be her future.

Out of the shadows he emerged, like a phantom rider mounted on a black horse. The stallion skidded to a stop and John swung one leg up and over the animal's head as he jumped to the ground. When Alex flew into his embrace he thought for just an instant that he might be dreaming about the warmth of her arms around his neck and the salty taste of her tears in his mouth, but his dreams had never been this good.

"Thank you, God." He whispered as he kissed her face, sank his hands in her hair, and tasted the sweetness of her mouth.

"You came. Why?" She clung desperately to his coat afraid that if she let go she would tumble to the ground from shock.

He kissed her again before he answered. "Because I love you, Alexis, and I'd be a damn fool to live my life with anyone else. I'm asking you again, and hopefully for the last time, will you please stay here with me and be my wife?"

The shock of his admission coursed through every fiber of her being. A sharp stab of pain exploded in her chest, and for a moment she couldn't draw breath or speak as she looked back at his tormented expression. _He loves me?_ She must have relayed some of the shock she was feeling because Doc suddenly gripped her harder and repeated his declaration.

"I'm an idiot for not telling you everyday since the first moment I laid eyes on you. I'm in love with you, and if you leave me here alone I won't have the strength to live without you. Please, please stay with me."

Her hand gently glided over his cheek, wiping away the tears she found there. Slowly, she turned to look back over her shoulder at her two companions. Both men stood in stillness and silence, as they let her make up her own mind. Then she turned back to look at the man who had somehow become the center of her world. Earnest blue eyes nervously waited for her answer. "Yes, John, I'll stay."

An emotion he had never known flooded his system. He had thought he knew what happiness was but he had been mistaken. This was happiness. Here in his arms was the contentment he had always been searching for. He kissed her gently, tenderly. "Thank you, Alex."

"So, I guess all's well that ends well. Eh, mate?" Spike mumbled to Angel as he watched Doc Holliday kiss Alex again.

"For once in your immortal life Spike, I believe you're right." He leaned over to pick up the crumbled paper and began to smooth out the wrinkles. "Alex." Angel called. He waited until the happy couple walked hand-in-hand to where he and Spike were standing. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Yes." She said with finality while picking up her bags.

Angel gave her a slight nod while pinning her with the seriousness of his gaze. "This era isn't even close to what you're used to." He remarked sternly.

"I know."

"You will never see a television show again." He warned.

"No commercials either." She countered with a grin.

Her light, careless manner only troubled Angel more. Once more he tried to implant on her the gravity of her decision. "You won't be able to vote, hold property, or even a bank account." He jerked his head at Doc and continued his lecture. "He'll be your lord and master. His decisions will overrule your own. You'll be expected to stay quietly in your place and do as you're told. You won't be able to travel alone. Everything will be twice as hard for you, washing clothes, cleaning your house, and cooking. All the niceties that you have become used to aren't invented yet. No radio, computers, or cars. You'll be hot in the summer and cold in the winter. Shall I go on?"

Alex placed a comforting hand on his arm to put a halt to his lecture. "Angel, you're not telling me anything I haven't already considered. I'm aware that there be a tremendous amount of adjustment for me, and that it will take a long time for me to feel comfortable. I know very well that customs and traditions are extremely prejudice toward women in this century, but I trust Doc. He won't try to bully me and he respects my opinions. As for the physical conditions… well, I have slept at the foot of the great pyramids, and camped in the Amazon for three weeks. I'm not worried."

"She will be well cared for, Mr. Montgomery." Doc offered in a firm voice while wrapping his arm in a protective gesture around Alex's shoulders. He'd be damned if he'd let her friend talk her out of staying, not now when he was so close to claiming her. "I'm well aware this century pales by comparison to yours, but I assure you, she will have every luxury that is available. I will also offer to her every breath of love I have in my body. I will give her the security and stability she's been lacking. She will have a house in which to raise a big family, and the support of good friends who care about her as much as I do. In short, Alexis will have a better life in this century with me, than she would in your time."

Angel smiled sadly and nodded his head. "Just making sure. I guess I don't need to tell you keep a low profile. Don't tell anyone who you are and don't share your knowledge of the future with anyone outside your group, you'll only alter history more if you do." He waited as she nodded again. "I suppose I'm to tell the Guardians you were killed in battle?"

"It would be the cleanest explanation. Since the chances of me surviving this mission were so slim to begin with, my death won't come as a surprise. Of course, Arthur will want to know the details. I'll leave it to your discretion whether to tell him the truth or not."

"And your family?"

"Arthur will take care of that. The Guardians have numerous ways of falsify a member's death. Let Wesley be your go between when you give your report. There are still some Guardians who consider you and Spike to be a threat. I don't want you to take any unnecessary chances."

He nodded thoughtfully. He didn't like spur of the moment decisions such as this. There were always little details that could be overlooked, and if he forgot a key element he wouldn't have the opportunity to straighten it out later. "Are there any instructions you want to send back, Alex?"

"Yes." She reached inside her jacket and pulled out an envelope. "Give this to Wes. He'll make sure it gets to Arthur."

Angel took the envelope and looked back at her with surprise. "You knew he would come, didn't you?"

She shook her head, and smiled up at Doc. "No. I prayed he would and God answered my prayer. I figured it wouldn't hurt to be prepared."

He looked away from her and down at his hands and the wrinkled paper he held. "Give me a pen." Angel suddenly asked.

She reached in her jacket once more and handed him a ballpoint pen. Quickly, he copied the spell onto the back of the envelope, ripped off that section without damaging the contents, and handed the spell and pen to Alex. Angel slipped Alex's instructions in his coat pocket while fixing her with a stern glare. "That's a clean copy. Keep it pressed so it doesn't get torn or wrinkled. If you ever change your mind, use it." This statement was meant to threaten Holliday rather than comfort Alex.

She only smiled back at him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'll make arrangements to send you my journals, so you'll know how the story ends." She whispered in his ear.

Angel clutched her hard against his chest. "I'll miss you, Alex."

"Thank you Angel… for everything." She kissed his face and then turned to hug Spike too. "Try to stay out of trouble."

"Never." Spike promised with a cocky grin as he kissed her on the forehead. "And you do the same, pet." After saying goodbye to Alex, Spike turned toward Doc and extended his hand. "It's been a pleasure."

Doc took the offered hand and tried not to think about how cool the vampire's skin was to the touch. "Even with all the fighting?" He asked with a slight grin. "I am just sorry that our activities didn't gravitate toward a hand or two of cards."

Spike returned the grin and shook his head. "The fighting is always the best part, mate. As for the cards…. Well, I'm not fool enough to match my wits against you. Beside, I've already been fleeced enough for one visit." He inclined his head toward Alex. "Take care of her." He told Doc before he turned and took his position next to Angel.

Alex led Doc several yards away until she felt that they were safe enough from the pull of the portal. Angel looked back at her once more and waved goodbye. "If you fuck up, Holliday, I'll come back as your worse nightmare." He threatened right before he read the spell aloud.

There was a brilliant flash of light and a sudden whirlwind of air and dust. The horse reared and cried out with fright. Doc turned to calm the animal and never saw the two men sucked backward into the light. When he looked back they were gone.

The shock of their departure rang through Alex's mind. _Well, now you've done it._ _You're alone now. They've left you here, alone._ It was an irrational thought, but she couldn't seem to stop the wave of unease growing in her stomach. Her rising panic was quickly checked when she felt Doc's arm wrap around her shoulders and pull her close to his body. As if he had read her thoughts he said clearly, "Don't be scared. I'm going to take good care of you Alexis and we're going to have a wonderful life together."

She turned her face toward his neck and nuzzled against his chin, breathing freely the warm aroma of his skin. Her heart rate began to slow as her fear melted from the warmth of his embrace. "I'm sure of it." She replied as she hugged him back.

_Fool, you almost lost her. _The reality of how close he came to not stopping her from leaving suddenly left him trembling and weak with exhaustion. "I almost didn't make it, did I?" He asked. She gave a slight nod of her head, but it was enough to bring fresh tears to his eyes. He enveloped her more; shoulders bent forward, head bowed to bury his face in her hair. "Alex, I'm so sorry. I had no idea of the hell I put you through. Three little words almost kept us apart. I'm a damn fool."

She chuckled softly, not because of his unease, but because she was relieved and free from the heartache that had become a constant companion. "Tell me again..." She pleaded. " I want to hear you say it at least three times a day for about a month."

He placed his hand under her chin and turned her face upward. Even in the soft moonlight he could see her face so clearly. Light-green eyes sparkled with complete happiness as she looked back at him. _Complete_, he thought. _That's what love is about, finding someone who makes you feel whole and complete._ It was a new sensation for him. Never did he feel more complete than he did at this very moment as he brushed his lips against hers, tasted her mouth, her chin, her eyes and then over to her ear. "I love you, Alexis Marie Montgomery." He whispered before letting his mouth travel down her throat. He sucked gently against the most sensitive area on neck, and smiled when he got the appropriate response from her. "I love you." He whispered to her a dozen times more until she sighed with satisfaction.

She reached for him, slipping her hand around his neck, pulling him closer until her lips covered his. It was not just a simple kiss, but one a great deal more significant. Everything she felt for him was represented in this kiss, all her desire, admiration, loyalty, sadness, frustration, tears, heartache, but mostly her love. His response was immediate, a slight tremor made him weak so that his arms clung to her for support, his body bending over hers, pulling her in closer until she could feel every inch of his passion. Her hands traveled the length of his body, moving first down his chest to caress the tight muscles in his stomach before sliding down, across his thigh and over to his buttocks. When he rocked his hips against her an involuntary moan broke free.

Doc shuddered again and with a light chuckle ended the kiss. "As much as it pains me to suggest this, but we should forego our reunion until later, or God help me, I'm going to take you right here in the sand."

"Promises, promises." Alex replied with a cocky grin that prompted Doc to kiss her again.

A calming pool of emotion seemed to settle around them, the moment broken down into fundamental and simplistic parts. There was the night air, cool, crisp with just a soft breeze blowing across the landscape. In it he could hear the subtle stirrings of the nocturnal animals. An owl hooted and flapped its wings, scurrying in the underbrush was probably the owl's next meal. Above and beyond those sensations was the warmth of the woman he held. Her heat kept him warm despite his lack of proper attire. The soft compliant feel of her body in his arms, the aroma of her hair, the lingering taste of her mouth kept him nourished. The soothing pulse of her heart beating against his own was the antidote to the sickness that had plagued his soul.

The idea of making love to her in the wilderness was growing more appealing by the second.

"We need to go back to Virgil's before Allie terrorizes everyone with her temper." He told her, even though his arms continued to hold her close.

Alex frowned up at him, a small crease forming between her brows. "Allie's mad?"

He ran his hand down the length of her hair, wrapped two fingers around several tresses before slipping his fingers free to observe the curls he just created. "For the sake of my health, and to avoid future retribution, it would be better to define it as impassioned. She told me I was a damn idiot." He was finding it very hard to let her go. Actually, as anxious as he was feeling now, he imagined it would be several months before he would feel comfortable enough to let her out of his sight.

Alex snuggled closer against his chest and let loose a small snort of amusement. "Yeah, that about sums it up." She couldn't seem to stop her hands from caressing him as if she needed this tactile contact to confirm that he was really here and not just a figment of her imagination. Her hand traveled the length of his back again when she realized that something wasn't quite right. Her fingers slipped around, underneath his arm, before moving across is chest. She stopped her exploration and pulled back far enough to get a better look at his chest. "John, you're not wearing your guns!"

He laughed loudly and kissed the top of her head. "I know, darlin." Reluctantly, he broke contact, led her around to the other side of the horse and gave her a boost up. "It's the darnest story." Once she was settled he mounted behind her. "Some female had me so wound up I clean forgot to heel myself. I can honestly say that it is the very first time that has ever happened. I do believe that it's a new record."

"Cute. Very cute." She replied with a grin as he urged the horse to a gentle walk.

* * *

"Allie!" Virgil snapped. "Stop looking out that damn window and get me some coffee."

Allie ignored her husband's third request for the hot beverage and continued to look for any sign of Doc and Alex. She figured if she waited another five minutes she could make him ask for coffee a fourth time.

Behind her she could hear that Marcus woman flirting shamelessly with Wyatt. She clucked softly under her breath and shook her head. It was disgraceful the way she behaved, and Wyatt a new widower too. Still, they did seem to be very happy together. She hadn't seen her brother-in-law smile that much in a very long time.

She moved her focus from the distant horizon to concentrate on the window and the reflection of the room behind her. _Oh, God, they're kissing again. No wonder Virgil's so grumpy._ As if cued, he groused again, "I guess a man has to fetch his own coffee in this house." With the thinnest trace of a smile on her lips, Allie turned away from the window to finally get her husband his coffee.

She had just poured coffee for the four of them and joined them at the table when someone knocked on the front door. Allie was immediately on her feet but Virgil stopped her. "Wait." He warned her firmly. "Let me get it, just in case." He reached for his gun hanging from the coat rack before he walked across the room shadowed by three very anxious people. He only had the weapon partly raised when he swung the door back and saw Alex and Doc standing there grinning gleefully at him.

"Gee, some welcome." Alex chirped.

"OH MY GOD!" Allie screamed as she pushed her husband to one side and flung her arms around Alex. "I just knew he would bring you back."

Doc stood back and watched the warm welcome Alex received as they stepped into the room. Wyatt approached and reached out to shake his friend's hand. "Congratulations Doc." He said warmly.

"Thanks to you and that racer of yours, Wyatt." Doc replied sincerely. Then he nodded a greeting to Josie. "Ms. Marcus."

"Josie." She corrected before turning to kiss Alex. "I'm so glad." She whispered in the Guardian's ear.

"So, things worked out after all." Virgil declared. He leaned down and placed a kiss against Alex's cheek. "Guess I can do that now, considering we're almost family." Then he turned to shake Doc's hand. "Glad to see you finally did something right." He looked across the room at his full coffee cup and mumbled. "Damn it, now my coffee's gone cold."

"Hush, Virg." Allie scolded. She led Alex and Doc to the table. "I guess you two must be starved. I saved some dinner for both of you. Are you hungry?"

"Starved." Alex echoed and settled in the chair next to Doc.

Throughout the hot meal Doc refused to release his hold on Alex and kept in constant contact with her body. He was either touching her arm, shoulder or holding her hand. Every now and then he would tease her by letting his hand roam freely under the table making her blush when his fingers would glide up her thigh, slip underneath the back of her jacket to caress the smooth skin on her lower back, or when he blatantly came in contact with unmentionable parts of her anatomy.

"So…" Wyatt began, "I guess Angel and Spike left?"

Alex looked up from her meal and gave Wyatt a brief nod. "I just hope…" Her brows furrowed before she looked away and back down at her plate.

Wyatt's eyes went wide as he interpreted her thoughts. "You don't think that…" He jerked his gaze at Doc. "The spell was a sure thing… wasn't it?"

Doc returned Wyatt's startled expression before he looked at Alex. "Are you telling us you weren't positive you'd make it home?" His voice held a tone of alarm with just the whisper of anger.

Alex refused to look at either man. She stirred the food on her plate, causally stabbed several string beans and forked them into her mouth. "It was a risk." She mumbled. "Time travel is not an exact science."

"Good God, Alexis," Allie gasped, "and you tell us this now?"

Alex let loose a nervous chuckle. "I didn't want to worry anyone."

"That's why you didn't know the portal wouldn't open inside the church. Father Martin told me you were going to try again at the location where you first enter our time." His lips thinned considerably before he looked over at Allie. "If she had succeed the first time I would have been too late."

The table was quiet for several seconds. Alex wasn't sure what to say so she continued to eat, but Doc set his fork down and rubbed nervously at his moustache. "Not only are my mental facilities failing me, but my timing is considerably off."

A gentle voice suddenly broke the disconcerting atmosphere in the room. "No they're not."

All eyes turned to look at Josie. "Events worked out just the way they were suppose to." When no one commented she clarified. "Love conquers all obstacles, despite dark events, tremendous odds, misunderstandings and ill timing, love always comes out a winner." She placed a loving hand over Wyatt's and smiled, "It's the surest bet in town."

"Well, Ms. Marcus, there appears to be more to you than meets the eye." Doc spoke on behalf of the speechless room. "Something substantial and perceptive. I shall have to make a better study of you in the very near future." He gave her a friendly wink before turning to kiss Alex.

_So will I_, Allie thought with a great deal of guilt over her harsh feelings toward the younger woman. She avoided Virgil's smug expression and asked Alex, "Is there anyway to find out if you're friends made it home?"

Alex shook her head. "Afraid not, but they're probably fine. After all, Wesley wrote the spell and the man is a walking, talking database of the occult."

"Who's Wesley?" Virgil asked.

"He's a friend of Angel's and a former Watcher. The Watchers are a subsidiary of the Guardian organization. They govern and train the Slayers, they also make a study of the dark forces. Wesley is a very useful individual."

"So," Wyatt began, "what do you two want to do first?"

"Wyatt, mind your manners. Gentlemen shouldn't talk of such things in mixed company." Doc scolded as his hand slipped between Alex's legs for the third time.

Wyatt rolled his eyes and clarified, "I meant what's next on the circuit? There is no way I'm staying in this town after all that's happened. A change of venue is definitely in order."

"Amen." Alex replied.

"Wyatt, you do have a point. Where would you like to go, darlin?" Doc asked Alex.

"I think you already know where we should travel to first."

He frowned at her suggestion. "No! I can think of other, more agreeable places to visit." When she raised her brows at him he finally relented. "Oh, all right. Eventually, we can pay a visit to my hometown, but not just yet. I don't want my father and his disposition to sour your ideals of a life with me until I am more secure in our relationship."

She smiled sweetly and took another sip of her coffee.

"Well, I know Morgan isn't here to vote on this, but I think we should travel to Alaska. I hear the town is ripe for gambling and mining. Lots of opportunities." Wyatt boasted.

Alex shot Allie an inquiring glance, which Allie answered with a subtle shake of her head. Alex rolled her eyes with frustration but said nothing. This silent exchange went unnoticed by the others.

"Wyatt you may be correct." Doc added. "Why just the other week I was playing poker with a man who had just come from Alaska." He stopped his story as he glanced away sadly. "Poor soul, I took him for two hundred and seventy five dollars before he gave up the fight." He smirked at Wyatt as he continued. "During the course of our _meeting_, he did relate some wonderful tales about that mysterious state."

Wyatt turned back to Alex. "Tonight is your night Alex, and you can decide where we should go next."

She tipped her head to one side as she pretended to think seriously. "Well, if I can choose…" She glanced once at Allie before she continued, "I say we move to Kentucky and breed race horses for a living."

"Race horses! That's sounds like a excellent idea." Wyatt agreed.

Alex was not surprised that her idea sparked the greatest interest in Wyatt. Allie had previously mentioned the lawman's love of horses. Starting a horse farm would require settling down in one town for an undetermined about of time, which was something Alex knew Allie and Louisa desperately wanted. Both Earp women were tired of their husbands constant wandering, saloon involvement and the danger of law enforcement.

"But why Kentucky, Alex?" Wyatt continued.

"Because in a few years it will be the hottest place to rub elbows with all the top racers and breeders, Wyatt. We're talking blue blood society with lots of money."

He broke into a wide grin. "I keep forgetting you know what will happen next." He laughed and gestured toward Alex. "We don't need to find our next load of cash, it's sitting right here in front of us."

Alex flashed an insightful grin and reached for her coffee cup. "You wouldn't believe how right your are Wyatt." She heard Allie sneaker behind her hand.

"What you all keep forgetting is we're busted. No sense dreaming about race horses and trips to Alaska when you should be worried about your next meal." Virgil grumbled loudly.

Alex coughed softly, and raised one questioning eyebrow at Allie. In response, Allie made a subtle gestured for her to be patient.

"Virgil, you'll frighten the women." Doc teased. "I however, never worry about my next meal. There's always some sucker who's ready to buck the tiger, and I shall be there to encourage him."

"Isn't it time for you to be a little more practical Doc, considering you'll be a family man now. Maybe Alex doesn't want to drag your ass out of every saloon west of the Mississippi. She not the same kind of woman Kate is." Virgil growled.

"Why don't we ask her then." Doc retorted. He turned to Alex with a face laced with sarcasm and asked, "Well, darlin, are you strong enough to drag my ass out of every saloon west of the Mississippi?"

Virgil cursed sharply at Doc, but Alex just shrugged. "I want to go to Kentucky."

"There. It's settled. She wants to go to Kentucky." He tossed back at Virgil. "What else do you want, Alexis." He asked her seriously this time.

"I want a house. A stone house situated in a green-peaceful valley, surrounded by my husband, children and friends." She replied seriously.

For the first time in his life, Doc Holliday didn't know what to say. Her words precisely echoed his secret desire, hadn't he uttered almost the exact same phrase to Wyatt not four long weeks ago? He placed his hand under her chin and turned her face toward his to get her full attention. "How did you…? Where did you hear that?" He asked her in a low intense voice.

She looked at him confused and concerned over his reaction. "Did I say something wrong, John?"

"No." He replied as he leaned in to kiss her. "What you said was just perfect. Alex, sometimes you take my breath away." Then he kissed her again.

Virgil cleared his throat loudly, and Allie reached out and smacked him across the shoulder. "Ouch. Well, we still don't have any money." He whined.

Allie turned to look at Alex and grinned. "Should we tell them, Alex?"

"We don't have to Allie. You could run away with me instead." She smiled devilishly. "I know how to show a girl a good time."

There was a general outcry from the men at the table but Alex and Allie ignored them. "Where would we go?" Allie asked with a gleam in her eyes.

"Florence is nice this time of year." Alex said matter-of-factly.

"Florence…" Allie whispered as if she were saying a sacred pray inside a church. She had expected Alex to suggest San Francisco, Denver, or one of the other major cities in the United States. It never occurred to her to broaden her horizon, but when Alex offered Europe, a whole new world was suddenly laid at her feet.

"Italian men are beautiful." Alex added. When she heard Doc scoff she continued, "The wine is very good too. Put the two together and … well, you can only imagine the results."

"That will be quite enough, thank you." Doc scolded.

But Alex wasn't ready to let go just yet. "Or, we could go to Paris." She offered, but quickly waved that suggestion away. "No, wait, I know the very place. I'll take you to Egypt. We'll ride camels and explore the pyramids." She leaned across the table slightly and whispered, "I know a secret way inside the sphinx."

Allie's face was beaming with delight. "Have you really seen the great pyramids?"

"Allie, I have scaled their walls and stood at the very top. Every woman should try it.

"Oh, boy, am I in trouble." Doc mumbled and stood to pour himself a stiff drink.

Alex and Allie feel into peals of laughter while the others looked on with confusion.

"What is going on with you two?" Wyatt demanded.

"Yes, do tell." Josie pleaded.

"I guess we should tell them." Allie finally admitted.

"TELL US WHAT!" Virgil yelled.

"Tell you about that." Allie replied as she pointed to a medium size chest that stood to one side of the front door.

"That?" He pointed with confusion. "I was wondering where that came from. What is it?" He began to walk over to investigate with Wyatt, Doc and Josie following close behind.

Alex and Allie stayed seated and continued to smile about their secret. "I put a table cloth over it so you wouldn't notice, Virg." Allie said. "Go on, open it up."

He turned back to look at her once, a brief flash of unease crossed his face before he reached out and removed the sewing basket and tablecloth. "You know I don't like surprises, Allie."

You'll like this one, dearest."

Slowly, Virgil lifted the lid, when he saw the chucks of silver inside he let out a low whistle. With an unsteady hand he lifted one rock to examine.

"My God!" Wyatt exclaimed.

Doc took one look inside, looked back at Alex, before turning back to the chest. "How..." he started to ask.

"It's the silver from inside the mountain. As Malachi's widow I feel I'm entitled."

"Well, I'm be damned." Wyatt exclaimed again and reached for a rock. "This is a lot of silver."

"You left this here for us, Alex?" Doc asked her.

"I wanted to make sure you would have some financial security to start a family."

"But… what about you?"

"I don't need the money, John."

"So, you leave me enough money to take care of another woman?"

She nodded.

"What if that other woman was Kate?" He asked with a devilish gleam in his eyes.

Alex's expression darkened when he mentioned the whore. "Then I would have come back through time and stabbed you both while you were sleeping."

He gave her a smooth smile. "I believe you would."

"Allie, how long have you known about this?" Virgil asked as he stood in the middle of the room with a rock in each hand. Behind him, Wyatt was eagerly passing rocks to Doc and Josie to examine.

"Since late this afternoon, when Father Martin dropped it off with a note from Alex." Allie reached across the table and gave Alex's hand an affectionate squeeze. "I don't know why, but I felt I should wait before telling you. I know now I was waiting for Doc to get Alex."

He continued to puzzle over an unknown dilemma. "There is one small problem." Virgil announced.

"Kill joy." Alex called out.

"When we go to cash this in the mining exchange is going to want to see the deed to the mine." Virgil continued.

Alex waved her hand at him. "That's not a problem Virgil. Allie has one copy of the necessary paper work and Doc has the other."

"I do?" Doc chirped in a bewildered tone.

"I left it in your folder with your other papers. I figured you would find it eventually. Besides, I left Allie instructions just in case you over looked it."

"About this deed, Alex. Is it legitimate?" Wyatt asked.

"Of course it is. I found all the paperwork that proved that my husband had purchased the property. After careful inspection and consideration, Mrs. Malachi McCulloch of Portland, Maine, formed the corporation, H & E Mine, Inc., whose shareholders, J.H. Holliday, Virgil, Wyatt and Morgan Earp, and the Santa Maria Catholic Church are to equally share, manage and disperse the proceeds of said mine, located Northwest of the Clanton Ranch."

They looked from one to another still overwhelmed by what she was telling them. "It's all right, Wyatt. Don't worry." She assured him.

"There are holes, Alex. You don't have the proper documentation to confirm your marriage or the death of your husband."

"The church has taken care of everything. If anyone wants to see proof, I can show it to them."

"Did Angel know about this?" Doc asked as he walked back to the table to sit next to her.

Alex nodded. "But he didn't want me to tell you. He was trying to preserve the time line. I thought about and decided to follow my heart instead. I… I wanted to make sure my friends were taken care of. And it seemed only right to make sure the silver did some good after all the evil my husband caused."

"So, the silver is what Malachi was after." Wyatt stated as he joined the others at the table.

"Yes. Angel and I argued over whether or not to tell you about it. You see… this silver mine has never been discovered. There have always been rumors of a large silver find, but nothing documented. Malachi was a good historian. When he stumbled across a forgotten clue during our honeymoon, he followed the trail until he uncovered a map marking the exact location of the mine, but he had one problem, in our time the county owned this land. Purchasing the land and mining it would have been next to impossible, but if he traveled back through time, his task would be considerably easier. He planned on buying the land in 1881, which would clear any obstacles for him when he returned the year 2002."

Doc placed a comforting arm across her shoulders. "But getting the spell book proved to be his undoing."

"Yes," Alex replied sadly, "it was his undoing."

"How tragically sad, Alexis." Josie said.

"What do you know about this mine, Alex?" Doc asked.

"Not much really." She replied simply as she picked up her coffee cup and took a sip. "Only that its yield is undetermined at the moment."

* * *

Alex didn't think she had ever been this exhausted. It was more than physical exhaustion. The emotional strain from the day had taken its final toll. Any minute now she was going to collapse. It was good that Doc had noticed her rapidly deteriorating state and ushered her back to the hotel. She watched as he placed his key inside the lock, opened the door and waited for her to step inside his rooms.

There was an air of termination when he closed the door and engaged the lock. The world she used to know was now gone forever. She had willing stepped through a doorway into another dimension and the door home had closed and was now locked against her. She stood there, in the center of the room, with everything she owned stuffed into two bags, and hadn't a clue what to do next. The moment was awkward. She felt uneasy, shy and nervous with the man standing before her. Who was he really? She hardly knew him. His ways were so different than hers. He was foreign, old fashioned, and at times tempestuous. How would she function in this time? There was so much to learn: mannerisms, customs, social class, and social structures. Not to mention clothing, hairstyles, daily hygiene were all alien to her. Would he be patient with her as she adjusted? What if she couldn't do it? Then what?

He lit one lamp and turned to face her. She must have looked as frightened as she felt because he frowned slightly and ever so slowly reached to take her bags. Alex couldn't control the flinch when his hand made contact with her shoulder and he frown again.

Without looking away from her face Doc dropped the bags to the floor. Gently, he took her in his arms and held her. She trembled from head to toe and he passed a soothing hand up and down her back until she calmed. "Hush." He whispered. "It's all right, darlin. You're just tired. We both had a lot to deal with today." He felt her sigh as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "Let's go to bed. In the morning things will be better. I promise."

He guided her to the bed and began to undress her. He wanted to get her comfortably settled before she bolted like a rabbit out the door. He could only guess how she must be feeling now. Even though she had spent almost a month in this time and had adjusted somewhat, everything must still be strange and unfamiliar to her. At each passing second he could tell she was growing more and more frightened.

"Here, drink this." He held a glass of brandy and waited until she swallowed some of the golden liquid.

Alex held her drink and watched as he knelt down and began to unfasten her boots. Suddenly, the sight of this simple gesture brought her back to her senses. She loved him and he loved her. What the hell was there to be frightened about? She reached out and sank her fingers through his hair; letting her hand slowly roam over his scalp, float across his ear and down to his cheek. When he raised his head to look up at her, she glided her fingertips ever so lightly across his mouth. In one smooth movement she leaned down and kissed him, breathing in deeply so that his masculine scent filled her senses. When she released him he smiled, and Alex knew in her heart everything would be fine.

"Drink your brandy." He told her as he proceeded to pull off her boots. Five minutes later she was comfortably settled, striped down to her underwear, and nestled next to his warm body.

She was calmer now that events had concluded. There was only serene silence, with just the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing. John's soft soothing fingers playing with her hair were easing her slowly down into the ether. Alex fixed her eyes on the one candle he had purposely left burning for her. A nightlight, lest she became afraid of the dark. If he had asked her, she could have told him the light would not be necessary. She knew her sleep would be dreamless tonight, for once, she would be safe and at peace.

"John?"

"Hmmm?"

"Thank you for coming after me."

He kissed the top of her head. "Would you really have left, Alex?"

She paused for only a moment. "Yes. I didn't think you loved me, and I didn't want to stay for my own sake and make you feel obligated."

He hugged her close and kissed her again. "I'm a damn fool sometimes, Alexis. I had no idea you felt that way." She chuckled softly but wisely said nothing. "I do have one request, darlin. Don't ever, and I do mean ever, sneak out again when I'm sleeping. My heart can't take the strain anymore. Will you promise?"

She chuckled again before replying. "I promise, John."

He grunted with satisfaction and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

In the morning Alex woke to the sight of a covered breakfast tray and one red rose. She sat up, flipped her hair over her shoulder and looked across the room for Doc. He was fully dress and comfortably seated at the small dinning table with the remains of his breakfast scattered across the surface. He was so engrossed in the paper he was reading it took him several seconds to notice she was awake.

"Good Morning. Did you sleep well?"

Alex nodded. "Have you been up long?"

"For a spell. You've slept late, Alexis, it's nearly noon." Doc nodded toward the tray that was sitting on the bed beside her. "I hope your breakfast is still hot. If it's not, I'll send it back and get you another one."

He gave her a peculiar little smile that told Alex he was up to something. She looked down at the tray. Whatever food or beverage it contained was completely covered by the white linen napkin draped over top. A single red rose stood out sharply against the white backdrop. She first reached for the flower and smelled its fragrance. Then she positioned the stem behind her one ear and looked over at Doc to see what he thought.

His smile grew substantially. "Your beauty enhances the rose considerably."

"Charmer." She teased. "I'm starved. What did you get me to eat?"

"Look and see for yourself." He replied causally before giving his paper a brisk snap and returned to his reading.

Puzzled at his somewhat distracted mood, Alex turned back to the tray and pulled off the linen napkin. She gasped softly and felt her heart skip a beat when she saw what was underneath. Slowly, and with a trembling hand, she reached for the silver music box. Through a fresh veil of tears she gave the key several quick turns before lifting the lid to set Beethoven free. Inside was the emerald ring he had offered to her a lifetime ago. "Oh, John…" She cried.

"Just once, I wish I could propose to a woman and _not_ have her cry." He replied as he sat on the bed beside her. He waited as she carefully picked up the ring and held it between her thumb and forefinger. "Our engagement is not official until you put it on, Alexis." He urged in a soft voice.

Alex smiled brightly at him and held out the ring for him to take as she simultaneously raised her left hand. "Will you do the honors?"

The look on his face was priceless. At that moment Alex would have paid a small fortune for a camera. Never in her entire life had she seen a man so deliciously happy. He was actually beaming as he slipped the ring onto her finger. "It's a perfect fit." She said as she admired the jewel on her hand. She kissed him passionately, tossed her arms around his neck and hugged him. "I love it. Thank you, John." She didn't think it was possible but his smile actually grew.

"You have three days." He told her firmly.

"Three days?" She puzzled in a somewhat distracted tone as she continued to worship the new jewel on her hand.

"To get your wedding dress and whatever other feminine wares you require for the wedding. Three days," he held up his fingers to clarify, "and then on the forth day we will marry."

His announcement brought her to attention. "Good Lord! Only three days! Won't it take that long for dress to be made?"

The startled expression on her face was delightful. He wondered if he would ever grow tired of shocking Alex until she lost all composure. "You have an appointment this afternoon." He glanced down at his pocket watch. "Actually, your appointment is in one hour with Mrs. Ott. A very talented seamstress, and I am told a miracle worker when it comes to producing a quick set of clothes."

"But… the church… Father Martin…" She stuttered. When he continued to smirk at her she got annoyed. "Don't you have to get a bloody license or something?"

He laughed outright and kissed her soundly. "Three days." He whispered in her ear before he stood up from the bed. "Go bathe, while I go downstairs to get you something to eat."

An hour later and Allie was at the hotel room door to take her shopping.


	66. The Past is the Future?

**Chapter 65 – The Past is The Future? **

Through low lighting and hushed whispers she slipped further into the dream he created for her. Where it began or how it began no longer mattered. She was his for the taking and he knew this only too well.

She brushed the inside of her leg against his hip, caressing him slowly, first with an upward stroke when she elevated her knee before moving downward, slowly again, making sure she came into contact with as much of his body as she could. _Soft skin touching soft skin, was there anything more divine?_ The thought was fleeting, scattering weightlessly through the void that was her mind. Nothing of importance was retained in her memory. Cognizance had no place within her tonight. There was only room for touching and to be touched, for tasting and to be tasted in return, but mostly to see through a veil of candlelight so she could observe the way his hair cast a shadow across his face, the arc of his neck, the strength in his shoulders, the shape of his mouth, and the passion in his eyes that threatened to consume her.

She reached up to skim her hand lightly across his face. A beautiful face, light complexion with just a hint of freckles after a day spent in the sun, regal nose, strong-high cheekbones, and soft lips hidden by a full mustache. It was a view she would never grow tired of.

Watching him had become an enjoyable hobby. Every aspect of his persona held her captivated, entranced, she never got bored. There were so many characteristics to his personality, so many deep-seated mysteries she had yet to solve. Slowly, she was growing accustomed to his ways; one-by-one, day-by-day, his multiple faces were revealed.

When he played cards his face would become a perfect mask, his eyes calculating and sharp. She could practically hear him counting as he tracked the cards that were played, subtracting them from the suits that remained in the deck. His hands were flawless, calm, and so very confident when he shuffled, very often dealing only the cards he wanted his opponent to have, keeping all the better matches for himself. Only his many years of experience and practice kept him from getting caught in his deception.

He showed her a different face when she would find him sitting quietly with Wyatt, totally engrossed in a private conversation that only the two of them shared. Whatever topic they discussed allowed him to reveal his kinder side, a gentler side, than most people would ever see.

The devil in him would emerge more frequently whenever he was upset or drunk. Alex had seen him slowly provoke a fight, taunting his victim from a position at the bar, letting the battle build slowly over several hours until his opponent was livid, and John hysterical with laughter when Virgil finally put a halt to the ruckus before gunfire broke out.

Before their relationship had become so cemented, when they were still unsure of one another's feelings, she would watch him from afar. She tried to do this in secret when he was totally unaware of being observed. Those moments were often short lived, but for a few seconds, sometimes minutes, she was free to take in the vision he presented, loving him completely and without condition. Eventually, he would sense her watching, stop what he was doing and look her way. Sometimes she would remain still, letting his eyes lock with hers until the exposure was more than she could bear, but mostly she would disappoint him by quickly looking away.

But things were different now. She didn't have to look away anymore. He belonged to her, and she was his. The engagement ring on her left hand stated this fact very clearly. This knowledge changed everything between them, and brought a new level of intimacy to their relationship that she had never experienced before. Whenever she wanted she could watch him, wait until he acknowledged her, offer him a secret smile filled with promises of tender encounters, and watch the heat of passion light up his eyes before she would casually look away.

Tonight, while visiting with Allie and Virgil, she kept her distance, letting him talk business with his friends at the dinning room table while she discussed wedding plans with the other women in the parlor. But from across the room she watched, waited, exchanged a silent message and then released him. She had done this a total of eight times throughout the evening, and each time the level of heat in his eyes grew. By the end of the evening she had him sitting on the edge of his chair. With amusement she noted his waning concentration. He missed large portions of the conversation and often had to ask Wyatt or Morgan to repeat themselves. A slow building fidget grew in his hands. He kept shifting his glass of whiskey around on the table; he lit cigarette after cigarette and even had two burning in the ashtray at once. The muscles in his jaw constricted, released, and then constricted again as if an unseen dilemma had him preoccupied. His mouth began to fascinate her whenever his tongue glided over his lips.

At every new level of arousal he progressed to, she matched him pace for pace. Her lower stomach tightened and fluttered, her heart pounded and the heat between her legs became almost unbearable.

Their friends knew what was happening and watched them both with amusement. Allie, Louisa and Josie gleamed at her as they looked through a catalog, Virgil grumbled softly, Wyatt's eyes sparkled with hidden laughter and Morgan giggled. Through it all she was relentless, driving him to distraction, keeping the game between them alive.

At the end of their visit he ushered her calmly out the door. Like a gentlemen he helped her mount the horse, took his seat behind her before nodding a farewell to their friends. He spoke not a word of love to her, nor did he kiss or caress her while the horse walked gently down the road, but they had only progressed a half a mile when he suddenly pulled her off the saddle and had his way with her in the Arizona dirt. His lovemaking was sharp, commanding, even rough, bordering violent. She loved every minute of it.

Their brief interlude on the way back to the hotel helped take the edge off the building passion until they were ready to retire, but the moment she disrobed and joined him on the bed he relinquished all control. Willingly she joined him there.

When her fingertips finished exploring his features, he turned his cheek and kissed the palm of her hand before drawing two fingers into his mouth to suck.

"Kiss me." She begged. Eagerly he complied, luring her in, keeping the pace of his mouth slow and deep and all the while his hands traveled over her body, holding her, caressing her in places that were so sensitive she hadn't known they existed until this moment.

He was taking his time with her tonight, the tempo of his strokes measured, languid, but steady. The rhythm was intoxicating. "Tell me," he demanded, "I want to know how you feel." She whimpered low in the back of her throat when his hips rocked against her again. The sensation was so extreme she could no longer form the words to express how good he felt. "Alexis," he whispered quietly in her ear, "never leave me."

His heartfelt plea made her raise her eyes, and the gravity of his expression brought her to the edge of tears. "Never." She pledged as she moved to caress that painful look from his face.

He sealed her promise with symbolism when he suddenly grabbed her wrists and pinned her arms over her head. His thrusts became stronger, stroking her to the brink of insanity and to the climax that lay beyond.

* * *

**Two days and counting….**

Doc tapped the hot ash of his cigarette into the ashtray as he glanced at Alex for the third time. She was staring off into space again, but her eyes were anything but mindless. The depths of her expression told him of the inner conflict that was raging in her mind. He tried to break her concentration several times by clearing his throat but didn't succeed. He frowned and reached for the hot coffeepot sitting at their table and refilled her cup before filling his own. The carafe was almost empty, so he signaled to the waitress to fetch them a fresh one before he glanced at Alex again.

"Alexis…" He called softly and waited until she raised her eyes. "You've hardly spoken two words together this afternoon."

She blinked to clear her vision. "Sorry, I still can't get it out of my head."

"It's probably nothing. You've had a lot on your mind lately."

She frowned and took a sip of her coffee. "There's nothing faulty with my memory, Doc, but there is something I'm missing."

"I'm sure Morgan had no idea this would create such a dilemma for you, and indirectly for me. He is curious by nature." He pulled strongly on his cigarette and released the smoke into the air revealing the frustration he was feeling.

Alex gently shrugged away his concern. "The discussion was bound to come around sooner or later. I guess it's too late for me to try to keep things hidden."

"Your schooling would have centered more on European history, perhaps you're confusing…"

She held up her hand to interrupt him. "That's true, I might forget dates or names of some minor historical figures here in the states, but Abraham Lincoln I remember. There is also the small matter of Ed Masterson…"

He watched her paused again, her eyes searching inward. "It's nothing, Alex." He reassured her. "A trivial detail. Let it go."

She shook her head at him. "Doc, I know Ed Masterson died, in Dodge City. I think the year was 1878, but I'm not certain."

"No doubt Ed would be very grateful for the reprieve, if he were made aware of his walking dead status." He tried to make light of her confusion and to ease her tension, but inwardly Doc was becoming more unsettled by the minute. This entire quandary started early this morning when Wyatt and his two brothers arrived at the hotel. The Earps had stopped at the telegraph office to retrieve a message sent by Ed Masterson. Bat's remains had made it back to Kansas and the funeral had taken place two days ago. At the bottom of the wire Ed had added a brief statement thanking Wyatt and his family for taking care of his brother.

Alex's current mood had started directly after that. "It's my fault." She told them. "He wasn't supposed to die until 1920 something. I can only speculate what other moments or events have been altered because of me."

"And Malachi." Doc quickly added. "Your interference is a direct result of his altercations. You need to keep that in mind, darlin."

"I have, but it doesn't help me feel any better, John."

At that point Morgan came forward and in his own way had tried to ease her mind, but indirectly made the situation worse. "Maybe only little things have been altered, Alex. We should make a comparison."

She gave him a confused look. "I don't follow you, Morgan."

"Well, what do you know of Bat's history? Did he make a big impact on the world? Was he suppose to become president or something?"

Virgil growled loudly and blurted, "Oh for Christ's sake, Morgan, a man just lost his life. Are you trying to belittle his existence so Alex can feel better?"

"Hell, no!" He shouted back. "I'm just trying to see how much of a void his death might have caused."

"He's got a point, Virgil." Alex quickly added. "There's going to be a ripple, whether it's a large one or a small one. If you take one man out of the equation there's no telling what can happen. Bat's great grandson might have become a senator or something. That possibility is now eliminated because of his death." She looked over at Doc, "Did he have children?"

Doc shook his head and she turned back to Morgan. "So, I guess what you're trying to say is how much one man's death, or life, could affect the world around him, for instance, Abraham Lincoln's assassination. That was a turning point in history. The nation mourned for him and even during my time he is looked up to as one of the greatest…." Her voice trailed off as she looked at the confused faces of the men around her. "What is it? God, don't tell me you're all confused?"

Doc looked from Morgan to Wyatt, and then back to Alex. "Darlin, I think you're the one who is confused. My people will all agree that the man should have been shot, but unfortunately, he wasn't, even though there were quite a few Confederate soldiers who would have gladly taken up the challenge."

She gave him a smug look and like a teacher want-to-be she proceeded to give him the proper instruction. "Abraham Lincoln was assassinated on April 14, 1865 at the beginning of his second term in office." When Doc gave her a confused look she pacified him, "You were young still, perhaps you don't remember."

"I wasn't young, Alex," Virgil quickly added, "and I remember quite well, having been stuck in a rainy encampment during the war at the time he was reelected. Lincoln served his next four years and retired from politics."

She gave him a peculiar look and slowly shook her head. "No… Lincoln died after being shot at Ford's Theater while watching a play. He was shot in the head by John Wilkes Booth, who was a Confederate sympathizer. Booth was later killed and four of his conspirators were hanged. One of them was a woman. How could you forget that? It was colossal news."

The room was silent for several uncomfortable moments with each man looking befuddled before Doc spoke up. "Something is either seriously wrong," He offered in a serious voice, "or you didn't pay attention while getting that degree in history."

She shook her head slowly as that distracted pensive expression made its first appearance.

They let the matter drop, not wanting to upset Alex anymore than she was. Doc canceled his outing with the Earps and accompanied Alex to her fitting appointment with Mrs. Ott and did his best to keep her busy picking out a few more dresses to be altered including all the accessories that she would need to complete the outfit. The scheme worked but only temporarily, once her appointment was over Alex returned to her quiet reflective mood.

Now as they ate a quiet meal at one of the several restaurants in town, Doc's concern grew with every passing second. "What do you say to a ride out to the mine? We could take some lunch to Wyatt and his brothers and see what progress the surveyor is making."

She murmured her answer and continued to stare at nothing. "Alexis, it's just a few contrasting points in history. How bad could it be if what you remember differs from my recollection?"

When she raised her eyes to look at him he noticed a fine sheen of tears. "That's just it…. I don't know how muddled things really are. Don't you see, if something is askew then there is a good chance Angel and Spike never made it home. We had discussed the possibilities of some minor changes in history, but now it looks like things are more mixed up then I ever imagined. I'll never know if they're safe. What if the future is so altered that their life is completely different or, God forbid, gone. What if they never made it home, Doc?"

* * *

"Welcome home." Wesley offered with a warm smile as he looked up from the book he had been reading. He used his finger as a placeholder before tucking the book in the palm of his hand, and stood to greet Angel and Spike. "I see the spell worked perfectly." He looked behind the two men before glancing at the door again. "Where's Alexis?"

Angel grim expression suddenly answered Wesley's question. "Oh,… I'm sorry, Angel." He continued in a soft sympathetic voice. "I know how much you liked her. The Guardians are going to take her death hard…"

Angel interrupted him with a wave of his hand, before collapsing on a nearby sofa with a large groan. "Alex didn't die."

Spike slid down next to him equally exhausted. Both men were covered in dust as if they had landed on a large pile of dirt when they entered this century. As if to clarify their difficult trip home, Angel began to slap the soot off his coat. "I think the reentry was worst than the trip there. Your coordinates were off when you wrote the spell, Wes. We landed in a vacant lot on the west side of town."

Wesley ignored his complaints. "Angel, if Alex survived her mission than where is she?"

"The mission was a success. Malachi is taken care of, and Tombstone is restored to normal, kind of…"

Wesley's brow creased with his rising irritation. "That's bloody wonderful, but where the hell is Alex?"

"She stayed behind in 1881."

"What!? And you let her? Angel do you have any idea the mayhem this could cause?"

"Not yet. Get me a history book on the old west and we'll find out how fucked up things really are." He and Spike followed Wesley to the back room and watched as he retrieved a large book. "Let's start with Doc Holliday. What does it say about him?" Angel suggested.

Astonished by Angel's inquiry, Wesley paused from looking up the reference. "Good Lord, not _the_ Doc Holliday? The dentist turned gambler who died of tuberculosis in…" He turned back to the book and began to flip through several pages. "Here it is…he died of tuberculosis on November 8, 1887, while rooming at the Glenwood Hotel in Glenwood Springs, Colorado, after fleeing from the authorities in connection to the murder of Frank Stillwell. Stillwell was one of the cowboys Wyatt Earp suspected murdered his brother, Morgan, several months after the gunfight at the OK Corral."

Angel exchanged a concerned glance with Spike before he reached for the book Wesley held. "Let me see that…" He read in silence with Spike glancing over his shoulder. "I don't get it? Nothing has changed."

"Did you think history had been altered because of Malachi's interference?"

"I know history has been altered, by Alex and Malachi, Wes, but for some reason it either reverted back or…"

"Or that book is wrong and our girl could be in big trouble, again." Spike added.

Wesley frowned while pushing his glasses higher up on his nose. "I should take a closer look at that spell book, but first you better start at the beginning and tell me all that happened."

* * *

"Is that all you remember?" Allie asked.

Alex nodded and with a trembling hand sipped her whiskey. She was once again in conference with the Earp brothers, only this time Allie was also included. The meeting that had started that morning at the hotel had resumed after Doc and she spent the rest of the afternoon onsite at the mine. The ride and the few hours of fresh air helped to stifle her tears, but she was still greatly worried. After Doc voiced her concerns to Wyatt and Virgil they both suggested that Alex should come to Virgil's house and stay for dinner, with hope that they could put their heads together and figure out what to do. Much to Wyatt's displeasure, Morgan had chosen not to participate in their discussion, stating that Louisa was expecting him home for dinner. Josie was also excluded from their evening discussion. She had accepted an invitation to dine with some friends, and because of Wyatt's new status as a widower it would have been inappropriate for him to accompany her. Alex had just finish giving her oral history on Abraham Lincoln to Allie and now the pretty blonde was thinking about what she had said.

"I have to concur with Virgil, Alexis." Allie added. "My recollection of history is the same as his."

This statement brought Alex to her feet to pace nervously. She looked at Doc for his input. "Maybe I'm crazy. Perhaps you should restrain me for your own safety."

He chuckled warmly. "We'll discuss bondage at a more appropriate time." He teased and watched her blush. "As for your state of mind, well, I believe you're safe."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but does anyone have a history book on the civil war?" Alex asked when she returned to her chair.

"We could go to the library tomorrow after your fitting," Allie suggested gently, "but you won't find anything different than what we have already told you."

Alex chewed on her lower lip for a moment and came to a conclusion. "I'm going to have to go back."

Over the general murmurs of concern from her friends she heard Doc's stern reply. "No." He simply ordered.

Alex turned to meet his angry eyes. "It's the only way I can be certain Angel and Spike are all right. I'll come directly back."

"NO!" He shouted this time, hitting the table with the palm of his hand in anger. He pointed one finger in her direction. "You made me a promise, Alexis. I intend to hold you to it."

"Come with me then." She pleaded softly while reaching for his hand only to have him jerk it away. "I'll try to keep your exposure to a minimum. You'll be less frightened by the changes that way."

Her sudden invitation caught him off guard. Alex could almost see his thoughts reflected in his eyes as he considered her proposal. Then after a moment more, "No." He replied more firmly than she had ever heard him state before. "You're staying here with me and that's final. There will be no more talk of separation. This is your life now, and I'm going to be your world. You're to stay here with me. I'm sorry if you don't agree."

Her first reaction was to tell him where and how high he could shove his orders. "So that's it? She snapped sarcastically. "The great and powerful Wizard of Oz has spoken, and now there's no more room for discussion or compromises?"

He leaned forward in his chair, fixed his eyes firmly on her and continued in a low steady voice that told her this was one battle he intended to win. "I don't know to whom you are referring, but you are correct, there is no room for discussion. If you're going to be my wife then you had better start acting like it."

She looked away from the sparks in his eyes and toward Allie, but judging from her composure she could tell that Doc's commanding tone was pretty much commonplace between a husband and wife. "Do you ever tell Virgil to stick it in his craw?" Alex asked.

"Not often, but when I do I make sure it's something important enough to fight over."

_In other words she telling you that Doc's right and you should meekly obey your husband to be_, Alex thought. She could almost hear Angel saying 'I told you so.' "Well, all righty then," she conceded, "I guess the library will be my next recourse."

Doc let out a sigh of relief, and tossed back a shot of whiskey.

Allie leaned forward and placed a comforting hand on her arm. "I'm sure we'll find an answer at the library. They have many wonderful books here, far better than most small towns."

Feeling trapped by her lack of options, Alex gave her a brief nod, looked away and reached for her glass.

"There are even a few rare books, first editions, but most are copies of the originals. There's a catalog too. If they don't have what you need we can order something."

Alex's head suddenly snapped up. "What did you say?"

Allie paused at her friend sharp question, "uh… we can order something."

"No, before that. You said something about rare books…"

"Oh, the first editions… the library has only a few, most are copies."

Alex beamed a bright smile. "That's it! That's where the fault lies. It explains everything. I don't know why I didn't think of it before." She jumped up from her seat and hugged Allie. "You, my dear, are brilliant."

Allie looked around at the startled expressions on the men and knew they were just as lost as she was. "Alex, what the hell are you talking about?"

"The book! Malachi's spell book, it was…"

* * *

"A copy!" Wesley shouted. "It's the only plausible answer." He came bounding out of the office with the spell book held tightly in his hand and rushed over to Angel who was busy sharpening his axe.

"Yo, mate," Spike snapped from his lounging position on a near by chair, "it's bloody undignified for an Englishman to be flying about as if his panties were on fire. Walk like a man for goodness sakes."

Wesley ignored him. "The book was a copy of the original. Copying the text would have altered the spells inside, directing the traveler to a duplicate universe. Alex might have followed Malachi to Tombstone in the year 1881, but it was an altered reality, a copy of our time and history. That's why nothing has changed for us." He showed Angel a small mark on the inside cover of the book. "See that small notation, that is the copier's mark."

Still not convinced, Angel furrowed his brow. "But… wouldn't we have noticed the differences when we were there?"

"Not necessarily. The realities could be very similar with only minor differences. Even Malachi might not have noticed. The Doc Holliday our Alex stayed with is not the Doc Holliday from our history. He is also a duplicate."

"So, the girl might be all right then." Spike inquired as walked over to where Angel and Wesley were standing. "She could have married the bloke and lived happily ever after?"

"There is a strong probability that she is… or was, fine. I mean, she's probably been dead now for almost a hundred years, but if her love for that John Holliday was a strong as you said it was, then yes, she would have led a happy life, married to her new husband and with lots of children to show for it."

Angel still frowned. "But there's no way to be sure?"

Wesley paused and replied softly, "No. There's no way for me to verify her life. Until she sends us word, we'll just have to hope for the best."

"Don't you mean IF she can send us word?" Spike interjected. "You left her a copy of Wesley's spell, remember? That's probably been altered too."

Angel's lips thinned with worry. "Wes is right. We'll just have to hope…"

* * *

"And pray they made it home safely." She was actively pacing in her excitement, gesturing wildly as she explained. From the table Doc Wyatt, Virgil and Allie followed her movements with a mark of worry and confusion on their faces. "Wesley's spell was written in their reality, it would have directed them back to the same world and possibly even the same day. If the spell was as good as Angel said it was, then I've got no reason to be worried. I'm also relieved that Angel kept the original spell and gave me the copy. If it had been the other way around… well, a copy, of a copy, of a copy… who knows where they would have ended up."

There was an uncomfortable silence before Allie finally voiced everyone thoughts. "Are you saying there are two worlds that are almost identical?"

"Yes… No… I, oh, bloody hell." She sat back down at the table again and tried to clarify. "Remember when I was explaining time travel and I took a dollar bill and folded it?" She waited until they all nodded. "What I didn't know and probably Malachi didn't know, was the spell book he used was not the original, it was a copy of the original. Copying the book altered the spells. They no longer took you to different times in the same reality but to a different reality." She paused to gage their reaction and from the puzzled looks she received she could tell there was still more explaining to do. "Think of it this way, a copy of the spell directed me to a copy of my world. So, when I spoke the words to the spell I didn't pass through the folds of my world, I jumped to an alternate reality and then passed through time. It might explain why the trip hurt so damn much."

Virgil's face creased with his frown. "Are you saying this isn't a real world? Why that's just hogwash, Alex."

"No, Virgil, that's not what I'm saying. It has been theorized that there are many different plains of existence, or duplicate worlds where people and events might be similar to one another. This Tombstone of 1881 is not my Tombstone. In my history, there is a gunfight between the Earps and Clanton gang. You and Morgan are shot, Virgil, but survive. Later, you're shot in the arm and Morgan... God, I'm glad Louisa isn't here now... is assassinated while playing pool. Wyatt and Doc reap revenge on Frank Stillwell, Curly Bill and many other members of the Cowboy gang. Five years later, Doc dies alone in a hotel room in Colorado. Wyatt and Josie marry, and it goes on from there.

That is my history. My history also has Abraham Lincoln assassinated in 1865, but from what you've been telling me, this reality has Lincoln finishing his second term in office. There are probably other differences that we can explore later. The important thing to remember is I didn't alter my history. My timeline is preserved and should be unaffected by what Malachi and I did."

Doc, who had been listening attentively, suddenly spoke up. "So, correct me if I'm wrong, but what you're saying is, there are two of me, two of Wyatt, two of Morgan, and God forbid, two Virgils, and that each of us could have similar lives but with minor differences."

She nodded eagerly. "Not only two of each of you, but the number could be infinite. Your lives could be similar or vastly different. It just so happened I landed on a world where the differences were minor, and so I didn't realize what had happened until you mentioned that Ed Masterson was alive. It was at that point I suspected something was wrong."

"But isn't it just as wrong that you altered our reality?" Allie continued.

Alex shrugged. "Maybe, and maybe not. For all we know, I'm supposed to be here. I might have damaged this world by _not_ staying behind."

"The past is really your future." Wyatt added, "And the future turned out to be your past." He grinned widely at his clever twist. "It sort of makes sense, but don't ask me to explain it, I don't think I could."

Virgil gave him a sly smirk. "Best stop while you're ahead, Wyatt, you'll make yourself dizzy."

"I just have one more question, darlin. If I'm not the Doc Holliday from your past then… does this change how you feel about me?"

Alex noticed for the first time how strained his expression was. She reached for his hand and clasped it tightly. "Yes, it does change things. It means I can love you without all my guilt getting in the way. Even though I'm sad that the Doc from my past died as he did, I could never be sorry that I'm here with you."


	67. One Day and Counting

**Chapter 66 – One Day and Counting**

"Oh, Allie, you gotta be kidding me!" Alex grunted with her eyes squeezed tight as she gripped the pole tighter.

"Shut up Alex, and suck it in." Allie replied nonchalantly over her shoulder as she perused a shelf of fashionable gloves.

Alex grumbled loudly for a second time. "Oh… Dear… God! This can't possibly be legal." She gasped, hoping to get a thimbleful of sympathy from her friend, but Allie continued to ignore her pleas clearly more fascinated with shop's accessories than her companion's demise.

The older woman behind Alex shook her head in an amused way and tightened the laces further. "There," she replied in a satisfied tone that sounded suspiciously like a dominatrix, "you are perfect. Now turn, please."

Alex released the wooden pole she had been grasping for dear life and turned slowly as she struggled to get a lung full of air. The dominatrix continued to ignore her struggles while dropping yards of material over her head and with expert fingers began to fasten a long row of buttons down her back.

"How am I suppose to get this thing off at night?" Alex snapped to anyone who would listen. "The buttons are impossible to reach."

Allie finally turned away from looking at the shop's wares. "You don't, dear. That will be Doc's job, and from the look of you, one he will enjoy immensely."

The dominatrix-seamstress nodded her head in agreement, made a few more adjustments to the fabric before pinning a stylish hat to Alex's head. She smoothed a wrinkle on the skirt and turned the flustered woman around to face a full-length mirror. "Perfect." She whispered again as she stepped back to admire her work.

Mrs. Ott was indeed a miracle worker, and thankfully a discreet one at that. Not a word was spoken about Alex's lack of proper attire, nor did the woman give the tattoos on her arms more than a passing glance. She was also a well-prepared seamstress. Her shop was stocked with various sizes of dresses in all the latest styles readily available to alter on short notice. Alex had only three fittings over the last three days, and now owned four new gowns and one wedding dress. She had also been surprised to find the store was supplied with ready-made clothing that needed no alteration. Various undergarments, shoes, slippers, stockings, robes, and several beautiful nightgowns to wear for Doc, were now all part of her wardrobe. She had shawls to keep her warm, stylish cloaks to wear over her new clothes to keep out the chill when they traveled, hats to keep her head covered and one riding outfit that Allie had personally handpicked.

She had been so busy shopping over the last few days she hardly had time to pay attention to her own wedding arrangements. That however, was not a concern. Allie and Louisa were executing preparations with the majority of the plans made by her soon to be husband. Alex figured that Doc was either content to arrange everything single-handedly, or he was worried that if he gave her too many decisions to make she would become overwrought and change her mind about the wedding. He kept her schedule simple, other than her multiple dress fittings she had only two additional tasks that required her attention.

The same day they announced their betrothal, Doc had taken her to Father Martin where she was surprised to find the charming priest in the middle of a major cleaning project. When she inquired about the occasion he only chuckled warmly, patted her hand and explained that God had answered his prayer as he ushered her and Doc into his office. They spent the next hour making plans for the service and filling out the church register. Directly afterwards their meeting with the priest, Doc escorted her to the courthouse to file for their license. Everything proceeded without the slightest hitch.

While she was busy finding shoes to match her hats, Doc and the Earp brothers were busy getting their new business operational. H & E Mine, Inc., was now in full production. For the first time in their lives, the Earp's were truly wealthy, and not just temporarily rich from a healthy night of gambling, but the kind of wealth that gives security, peace and the opportunity for vision into the future. The dream of hearth and home was no longer a fantasy. All it required to make it real was planning, and planning was exactly what Allie, Louisa and Josie were busy doing. The women wanted permanent homes but more than that, they wanted their men retired from the dangers of law enforcement and a horse farm was the ideal occupation.

Doc and she had talked at length with their friends and they all had decided to remain in town for another month complete. By then they hoped to have most of the kinks worked out of their new business. In their absence Fabrizio, Luke Short and Charlie Bassett, who had decided to remain in town, would oversee the day-to-day operation of the business. After they made sure things were running smoothly, they would travel east, stop at Kentucky to pick out some land, and then onward to Philadelphia to shop for the items to fill the new homes they would build, and finally they would book passage and honeymoon in Europe for at least two months. Wyatt and his family of course would come with them. Alex wouldn't consider any other alternative. It was time for some fun and she wanted to enjoy her new life with her husband and her friends.

Now that she had some presentable clothing to wear she won't worry so much about embarrassing Doc. She wanted to be a woman he would be proud of and not a misfit running around in male clothing. She appraised her new look in the mirror and hoped Doc would be pleased with her.

"Oh, Alexis," Allie cried with delight, "he's going to bust something when he sees you in this."

Alex had to agree as she stared back at her reflection. The corset, which was impossibly tight, had enhanced her figure to such a degree that even amazed Alex. Never in all her years had she ever imagined her body to be this long and curvy. Her breasts were thrust high and firm, while the whalebones in the corset squeezed her midsection giving her a long, thin waistline that was pinched at the middle to a narrow seventeen and a half inches before flowing gracefully down to her hips.

The gown… well, the gown was really breathtaking, even if it was only a day dress as Allie had pointed out to her earlier. It was made from a soft blue cloth the color of an afternoon sky, and trimmed in green velvet that matched her eyes perfectly. The top half of the gown had an open neck and left only a modest amount of skin exposed. The sleeves were long, to cover her tattoos, slightly puffy at her shoulders and tapered sharply at the wrist. The skirt fell in folds around her hips and down to the floor. Over top of the dress was a smart waist-length jacket that fastened at the middle and could be taken on and off easily. The jacket was cut to leave the front of her dress exposed, accented by a collar in back of the neck, and long sleeves that fared outward at the wrist to accommodate a row of matching green fringe at the cuffs. The costume was complemented by a cute coordinating hat with veil that sat over the crown of her fashionable coiffure hair and held in place with a large dangerous looking hatpin. Once the hat was in place the veil could be lowered to delicately cover her face or raised to drape over the hat. To complete the ensemble, she had velvet green gloves that came her wrist and a matching parasol.

The outside of her new clothing was more than she was used to wearing, but underneath the dress she had a ton of more layers and strange feminine wares to contend with. To hold and support the weight of the skirt the seamstress had insisted she wear several layers of stiff petticoats and a bustle at the small of her back. To protect her skin from the corset and petticoats, she now owned a multitude of soft silky chemises. Silk stockings caressed her legs and were held in place with garters. The soft cotton bloomers she wore had at first sent her into fits of laugher, but the practicality of the garment would make her feel less exposed and keep her legs warm in the winter. To protect her feet she wore fashionable women's boots that had a slight two-inch heel and laced tightly around her ankles. To Alex the shoes looked more like old fashioned grandmother boots, but as Allie had explained earlier, delicate slippers, which would normally be worn with gowns, were out of the question and impracticable to walk the dirty Tombstone streets.

Nervously, Alex turned from side to side before looking over at Allie for support. Allie smiled brightly and nodded her approval, but Alex wasn't so sure. "Oh, Allie…" she cried in a stressed voice, "I don't think I'll be able to walk in this."

"You don't like it?" The seamstress asked anxiously.

"Oh, no… it's not that. The dress is beautiful." She assured the worried woman with a small smile. "It's just that…" She looked once more at Allie, uncertain on how to voice her concerns.

Allie put down the gloves she had been admiring and approached her friend to take her hand. "Patience, Alexis." She whispered, so that the seamstress wouldn't be able to hear all that she said. "Remember what Doc and I discussed with you earlier. It will take a little time to adjust."

Alex swallowed back her fears and nodded. Allie and Doc had indeed warned her that there would be a period of adjustment as they discussed the need to clothe her in proper dress. At the time Alex had thought that long dresses wouldn't be too terrible of a discomfort. After all, hadn't she been wearing long dresses for the past several weeks? But she had been wrong in her assumption. She now realized she had been running all over Tombstone scantly dressed without a hat, corset, bustle and only one or two petticoats. She also had the freedom of wearing her pants during the nights she went patrolling.

Now, as she looked at her new clothes in the mirror and tried to adjust to the movement and weight of dress, she understood how much of an adjustment it would be. It wasn't so much the heaviness of the material that had her worried, it was walking, sitting, standing, and God help her, going up and down stairs. There was one more concern she had that she now voiced to Allie. "How the hell will I go to the bathroom with all this on?" She whispered back. "I just know I'm going to pee all over my petticoats, Allie."

Allie stifled back a giggle and patted her hand. "I'll help you the first couple of times. After that it will be a breeze."

"Yeah, says you." Alex muttered back while pulling on her gloves.

She laughed again and turned to instruct the seamstress. "Will Mrs. McCulloch's other dresses be ready in time, Mrs. Ott?"

"To be sure. I will bring them to the hotel this afternoon."

"Only her regular clothes. Bring the wedding dress to my house, please. We don't want Dr. Holliday to see what his bride will look like before the wedding." Allie gathered Alex under the arm and steered her toward the door. "Come along, dearest. Let's go see what your intended thinks of the new you." She looked back over her shoulder at the dressmaker. "Thank you, Mrs. Ott. You've been a miracle worker."

Finding the men was not difficult. Allie knew exactly were they would be. She strolled arm in arm with Alex down the walkway and directly to the Oriental. The saloon was a hive of activity. Milt had been very busy making the repairs and improvements with the money the Earps had procured from the bank, after cashing in the crate of silver Father Martin left at Virgil's house. Workmen were busy fixing the broken window and split wood at the front entrance. When the two women approached, the men eagerly stepped to one side and nodded their heads in greeting.

Doc, Wyatt and Virgil were bent over the surveyor's maps spread out over several connecting tables. "There... see how the elevation drops off here." Wyatt pointed out to Doc. "We might encounter water at this level. We'll need more pumps."

Doc nodded as he made a notation on a note tablet beside the map. "I believe Morgan said some were on order." He looked up to find the youngest Earp who was helping Milt hang his new glass shelving. "Morgan, didn't you say that pumps were…" He words dropped off.

Morgan turned to answer Doc and noticed immediately the shocked expression the gambler wore as he stared toward the front of the saloon. "Doc, what is it?" When Morgan turned to see what had his friend fixated he suddenly smiled and let out a low whistle.

A wave of colorful cloth and feminine grace was gliding through the front doors of the saloon. When the two women lowered their parasols the room went still.

"My God." Wyatt whispered as he watched Doc step around the tables to greet his bride to be.

Doc Holliday was speechless. With trepidation, Alex waited for him to comment on her new look, but the man continued to gape at her shamelessly. His lack of fineness and speech, however, was all the praise she needed. She gave him a wicked grin as she delicately raised one gloved hand for him to take. "See anything you like, Mr. Holliday?" She asked with seductive grin.

Her humor finally brought him back to his senses. Slowly, he brushed her fingers against his lips and gave her a brilliant smile. "How, madam, will I ever get through each day merely talking to you when you look so luscious."

Alex stepped in close and whispered. "But you weren't talking, sir. You were looking… like you saw something good to eat."

"Indeed." He crooned in a husky voice. "Then it is fortunate for me the wedding is tomorrow. After that I'll be legally entitled to ravish you in public anytime I am so inclined." With that said, he pulled her in close and kissed her.

"I take it that he likes her new look." Allie remarked to her husband.

Virgil chuckled softly as he appraised his wife's new outfit. "He'd be a fool not to. You've outdone yourself, Allie girl."

"Yes, I believe I have." She smirked as she turned her cheek to receive his kiss. Any further comment Virgil might have had was halted when Allie suddenly called out, "Doc! Stop kissing her and let the poor thing breathe. She's having enough trouble adjusting to her corset." She quickly stepped forward and took Alex's arm and helped Doc ease her down into a nearby chair.

Allie snapped open her fan and waved fresh air across Alex's pale face. After a moment the color returned to her complexion. "Better, dear?" Allie asked.

Alex gasped softly and nodded, although one hand still hovered over her heaving chest. Doc looked on with concern. "Allie…" he started to ask, but Virgil's wife was already on the move.

"Let's go upstairs and I'll loosen your stays. Mrs. Ott may have been a tad overzealous when she laced you up." She looped one hand under Alex's arm and helped her to her feet. "We don't want you to suffocate now, do we?"

* * *

"We have an announcement." Morgan stated while slipping his arm over Louisa's shoulders. "Since this is a night for celebrating, I'd like to make a toast to wish my very good friend, Doc and his lovely lady, Alexis…"

Morgan raised his glass and paused as he and Alex shared a private exchange, which was something Doc had noticed happened a lot. Ever since Morgan's brush with death and Alex's intervention, a special connection between them emerged, but this did not alarm him. Actually, he understood how such a bond could have developed. Alex and Morgan had a history between them that no one else could relate to. To deny, dismiss or retaliate against it would be futile. Instead, he did his best to ignore his jealous urges and allow Alex the freedom she needed.

Tonight they were celebrating at the hotel restaurant with a fine meal, champagne and good friends. There was a lot to be thankful for. So much, that Doc was overwhelmed with the good fortune that had been set on his plate. The return of his health, and with it his dreams for the future, and his nouveau riche status were most definitely on his thank you list. He turned to look at the woman sitting beside him and knew in his heart that he was, above all else, most thankful for her presence in his life.

Alex felt his eyes and turned toward him. She blushed deeply when she perceived the level of affection in his gaze, but she didn't look away. Doc picked up her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist and watched her color deepen.

Morgan smiled at the affection displayed by the happy couple before he continued his toast. "May they be blessed with a wealth of good health, happiness and peace. But there is another reason for my good humor tonight… Not only are we fortunate to have a new friend and adoptive sister," he gave Alex a quick wink, "but Louisa and I are also thankful for our happy news…

Allie let out a squeak of anticipation followed by Virgil quickly telling her to shush.

"…I'm going to be a daddy!"

There was a general cry of good wishes before Doc noticed that Alex was just a little too calm about the announcement. "You knew about this didn't you?" He inquired with one raised brow. When she nodded he asked, "And how is it that you are privy to this information and I am not?"

"Because, my love, you can't tell when a woman is newly pregnant by hugging her and I can."

"I see." He raised his chin higher and gave her a calm mocking stare. "Do you intend to diagnose people at will, darlin?"

She laughed and patted his cheek. "Not if I can help it."

His attempt at humor suddenly faded into one of concern. "Then… you're interpretation was unintentional?" He asked in low voice. When she nodded his expression deepened. "Has this ever happened before?"

She shrugged away his concern. "That was the first time." Before he could comment she brushed aside his apprehension. "Don't worry, John, I intend to be too busy taking care of our own children to predict anymore future births."

The mention of children brought back his smile. He leaned close to her ear and whispered, "I want a son first, Alexis." He sealed his request with a kiss before Wyatt interrupted them.

"I'm glad the wedding is tomorrow, Doc. I can tell it won't be long before you're making a birth announcement of your own."

"Wedding?" Doc paused with a frown. "Oh yes, the wedding." He winked at Wyatt over Alex's head. "What hour did you say I needed to be at the church, darling? Do you think I'll have time for a hand or two at cards before I seal my fate?"

She gave him a smooth smile. "I refuse to be baited, John. But I will say this… if you stand me up or keep me waiting, Fabrizio has offered to stand in your place. Tomorrow, I shall be married with or without you." She took a calm sip of her champagne and gleamed at him.

Doc returned her mocking expression and was prepared to give her a sharp reply but before he could Virgil spoke up.

"Not to worry, Alex. He'll be there with bells on, ready and waiting, even if I have to rope and drag his ass across town."

Doc smiled, a beautiful bright smile, and placed a reassuring caress along Alex's cheek. "I will see you at ten o'clock tomorrow morning, Alexis McCulloch, and by quarter past the hour you will be forever known as Mrs. John Henry Holliday. You can place your highest bet on that."


	68. Without Doubt

**Chapter 67 – Without Doubt **

The brilliance of the morning sun passed streaming rays of light through the tall narrow windows, illuminating the occupants inside the stone structure. Despite the vigorous cleaning the building had sustained, beams of light caught fine particles of indigenous dust and held them captive, making them dance and whirl like thousands of tiny fairies brought forth to witness this ceremonious event. To orchestrate the affair, Father Martin stood tall and proud at the front of his chapel dressed in his best black robe. He cast his eyes around the room and admired the white tapered candles that burned brightly, and the fresh cut flowers draped in white ribbon that graced the altar and entranceway. Never had his church looked so beautiful, but that splendor was still second best when compared to the man and woman standing before him.

Alexis wore a stunning long sleeved lavender gown trimmed in white brocade and complemented by a smart looking hat in a deeper shade of lavender. The back of the hat rose ever so slightly to accommodate a satin bow and several soft lavender and white feathers. She had decided not to wear a traditional veil, but had instead chosen a modest spray of lace fastened in the front of the hat and pulled down gently to her chin. Her choice to forgo a white gown was customary for a second marriage, lavender being the traditional color for a bride who had lately been in mourning. The color, besides being appropriate, was probably the best shade to show off her green eyes and golden hair that was piled high on her head and arranged in soft lovely curls.

John couldn't have looked more proud of his bride, or more handsome, dressed in a navy blue suit, white shirt and dark blue satin vest threaded with thin veins of silver, and topped with a silver cravat held in place with a diamond stick pin.

To witness the ceremony were the Earps, their friends from Dodge City, and Fabrizio. All of which were dressed in their finest clothes. Even Javier, who stood beside him, was wearing his best white and red altar boy robe and for the first time in a month had his hair neatly combed.

_Yes_, _this is certainly a happy day_, the priest thought as he smiled proudly before nodding once to the bride and groom to let them know he was ready to begin.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony, which is an honorable estate, instituted by God in the time of man's innocence, signifying unto us the mystical union that is between Christ and his Church; and therefore is not by any to be enterprised lightly or wantonly to satisfied man's carnal lusts and appetites, but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, soberly, and in the fear of God, duly considering the causes for which Matrimony was ordained…"

Father Martin's voice faded into the background as Doc gazed down at Alex. This was the most important day of his life and his brain refused to focus on any one subject for more than two minutes together. He had started the day in this distracted state of mind. Words, phrases, and sentences that had always flowed effortlessly from his mouth, now abandoned him, leaving him stuttering and stumbling over simple things like 'good morning' and 'thank you'.

When he ordered breakfast to be sent up to his room, he couldn't make up his mind what he wanted to eat. Ely, the bellboy, stood patiently at his door for a full three minutes waiting for him to make up his mind, a slow growing expression of amusement on his face. In the end Doc had simply told him to bring coffee and whatever food was readily available. Then he shut the door in his face without saying thank you. Ten minutes later and Ely was back with his tray, but by then he had completely forgotten about eating. All of his concentration had been focused, almost stuck on one task, as he sat on the edge of the bed, a set of blue socks resting in each hand, trying desperately to decide on which pair to wear. The light tapping on his door was intrusive to his temperamental state. He answered the door roughly, took the tray, managed to mumble thank you this time, and gave the boy a pair of socks instead of his usual dollar tip before he closed the door.

He returned to the bed to continue pondering his sock dilemma and found only one pair of hosiery. It took him another ten minutes to remember what he had done with the other pair.

He functioned a little better after he ate and had his coffee, but he still wasn't himself.

In addition to his malfunctioning mental condition, he continued to worry that Alex would leave him standing at the altar. He glanced longingly at the empty spot in his bed and cursed again at his stupidity for letting her stay with Allie and Virgil last night. He should have insisted she return with him to the hotel just so he could keep her closely guarded, but Virgil's wife had stated that it was against tradition for the groom to see his bride before the ceremony, and so reluctantly he left her behind in Allie's care.

_Fool! What if she changes her mind? What if she returns to her time with all of its modern and convenient_ _devices?_ Washing machines, air-conditioning, cars and airplanes, these were things he couldn't give her. Why in heaven would she want to leave all that behind?

He bathed in a fog of worry and stress, as disjointed thoughts and images haunted him throughout his routine. He even cut himself shaving and nearly forgot to brush his teeth. Finally, Wyatt came to his rescue, but only after he stood in the hotel room doorway and laughed at his condition for several minutes.

"I'm sorry, Doc," he chuckled softly, "but I've never seen you nervous before."

"I'm glad my discomfort affords you some amusement, Wyatt." He snapped in a dry tone before an alarming thought brought his wedding preparations to an abrupt halt. "You don't come with bad news, do you?" He asked, sounding more alarmed than he cared to show.

Wyatt laughed at him again. "Hell no. We thought we would walk you to the church, that's all. Virgil's downstairs at the bar waiting for you, or depending on your perspective, he could be guarding the front door so you don't leave. He said something about making sure you don't get confused about which direction the church is. We left Morgan at the house. He'll drive the women once they finish getting ready."

Doc shook his head in an effort to clear his chaotic thoughts, and tried to fasten his cravat again. "I've never been so out of sorts. I actually gave the bellboy a pair of my socks this morning when I really meant to give him a tip." He looked at Wyatt from the corner of his eye. "You're grinning like an idiot, Wyatt. Knock it off."

"You need a drink, Doc, and you need this." Wyatt reached into his pocket and handed his friend a folded piece of paper.

A strong stir of alarm struck Doc hard in the stomach. He hesitated to take the note, his hand frozen in mid-air, dreading the ill-favored news it might contain.

"Go on, read it." Wyatt urged with another chuckle escaping his lips. "It's not what you think."

With trepidation Doc took the note and walked over to the window.

_Good morning, dearest. _

_I slept poorly last night without you, and I am no better off this morning. My nerves are in such a state that Allie has practically dressed me single-handedly. I imagine that you are just as unsettled and probably more so with thoughts of my leaving you jilted. So, I thought I would put us both at ease by sending you my love and fond desires as I wait to become your wife. _

_Be calm. Be assured. Remember that I am everything with you, and nothing without you. _

_All my love, Alex_

Finally, oxygen flooded Doc's brain and he smiled. It seems his little cook knew him better than he knew himself. Somehow Alex had known he would be in this stressful state, and as usual she said just the right thing to put him at ease. _I'm a very lucky man,_ he thought. He breathed a sigh of relief, inhaled the sweet aroma of the scented paper before placing the note in his breast pocket.

"Better?" Wyatt asked, even though he could plainly see the stress and nervous energy dissipate as Doc read the note. Until now, he didn't think it was possible for Doc Holliday to be anxious or worried. Those emotions had always been lacking from his persona. Unlike other people, the gambler had always carried an air of detachment no matter the circumstance. The man was infallible… or at least he had been until Alex came into his life.

"Much better. Thank you, Wyatt."

The lawman chuckled again. "Don't thank me, thank Virgil. He was the one who offered to carry the note after watching Alex cry all over her breakfast. She's a nervous as you are. Gee, romance books aren't nearly as dramatic as you two. I hope you both settle down some after the wedding."

"That is also my fondest wish, Wyatt, my friend." Doc replied as he followed him downstairs and to the bar where a large whiskey was waiting to steady his nerves.

The whiskey eased his apprehension but his fractured thoughts continued. Now as he stood in front of their small gathering, side-by-side with this beautiful miracle that would shortly be forever united with him, the only thing he could focus on was her face and the smell of her bath soap that had become so much a part of him he could no longer remember what it was like to not have its heady aroma coating his senses. He turned his attention back to the priest and tried once again to focus on the ceremony.

"First, it was ordained for the procreation of children. Secondly, as a remedy against sin, and to avoid fornication. Thirdly, for the mutual society, help, and comfort, that the one ought to have of the other, both in prosperity and adversity. Into which holy estate these two persons present come now to be joined.

Therefore, if any man can show any just cause why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace."

The priest paused as he flashed a worried look about the church, and Doc felt his heart skip several beats. He had a strong desire to place a firm hand on the handle of his gun and survey the room for any troublemakers, but that feeling was misplaced because he wasn't wearing his gun, nor was he carrying any other weapons, something that left him feeling naked and vulnerable. He glanced once at Wyatt and felt a flood of gratitude when he saw the stern look on the lawman's face that told Doc he would willing shoot the first person who opened their mouth. Alex must have also sensed his fears and reached for his hand, threading her fingers gently through his. Finally, when no objection was declared, the priest continued.

"John Henry Holliday, do you take this woman to be your lawful wife, to live in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love, honor, comfort, cherish and keep her from this day forward, forsaking all others and keeping only unto her for as long as you both shall live?"

Doc turned to look down at Alex and felt his reply come from the depths of his soul. "I will."

Doc wasn't the only one who was out of sorts this morning. Alex also had random bouts of panic and confusion. Questions and more questions kept coming to her as she bathed that morning. The answers were scarce and hard coming. Was she being impulsive? Perhaps she should postpone the marriage for a month or two until she was more adjusted to this era. Would his family think her bold and ill mannered for marrying him after so short of an engagement? What would she say if her in-laws wanted to know about her background and her family? There was always the possibility that they would assume she was a prostitute having met Doc in west rather than through a proper introduction that would have normally taken place in the eastern states. Would he still find her pleasant company six months from now, or would he be bored with her? Would Doc be likely to miss his vagabond ways and habits when they finally settled down? How could she possibly build a life with a new husband after cutting the head off her previous spouse?

_Now that thought is funny_, she mused. The dark notion had taken her by surprise, and as abstract as the idea was, she couldn't help the bubble of laughter that was quickly rising to the surface.

When Allie brought her breakfast tray into the spare bedroom she occupied, she found her friend in a state of hysterics. Both women fell into peals of laughter when Alex shared her ethereal thoughts. Ten minutes later she was just as hysterical after bursting into tears when she thought again of her sad and tragic life with Malachi.

That's when she realized that John was probably just as nervous as she was. She penned a quick note and asked Virgil to carry it to the hotel. Her calming words to Doc also settled her own turbulent emotions. _It's called wedding day jitters, stupid, _she reminded herself and turned her attention to the finishing touches of her outfit.

"Alexis Montgomery McCulloch, do you take this man to be your lawful husband, to live in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love, honor, obey, comfort and cherish him from this day forward, forsaking all others and keeping only unto him for as long as you both shall live?"

She thought she had paused for only a moment. _Obey?_ Good Lord, she had completely forgotten that antiquated part of the ceremony. She could only imagine the grief she would get the next time she ignored Doc's instructions and did as she pleased. He would take tremendous pleasure in reminding her of her wedding vows. She looked up at his anxious blue eyes as he waited for her to reply. Of course he would have no idea that one little word had been forever removed from modern wedding vows, but here in the nineteenth century women were expected to follow their husband's directives.

She heard Father Martin make a small sound that was meant to alert her that she had yet to give an answer. She snapped to and gave Doc a small smile. "I will." From behind her she heard Allie sigh loudly with relief. Apparently her pause had been long enough to set everyone on edge.

Father Martin turned to receive from Javier the ring and placed in on the open bible he held. He then presented the ring to Doc. "Take the ring and place it on the fourth finger of her left hand, and repeat after me… With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow."

Doc took Alex's hand in his and looked down at her upturned face. From under her veil her eyes locked with his, unwavering and strong, her gaze held no hesitation whatsoever. In the depths of her green orbs he saw only a bright future and the promise of true love. But he could tell that her conviction did not come easily. The gold band he held felt warmer than the cool touch of her trembling hand. _She's as nervous as I am_, he thought. He gave the tips of her fingers a brief caress, which earned him a small smile in return before he gently slipped the ring on her finger, settling it next to the emerald engagement ring, and in a solemn voice spoke his vows. "With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship and with all my worldly goods I thee endow." He watched her breath hitch in her chest as a rosy flush appeared in her cheeks, and he knew without a doubt her happiness was equal to his own.

"Let us knell and pray." Father Martin prompted, and waited until Doc and Alex were knelling and bowed before him. He looked out over the small gathering, and his face suddenly lit with a beaming smile. "For those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder. Forasmuch as John and Alexis have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth to each to other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving of a ring, and by joining of hands, I pronounce that they be Man and Wife together," He raised his hand over their heads and carved a cross into the air, "in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen."

The priest turned, passed Javier the bible, and received the silver cup that boy held for him and in one fluid motion sprinkled the happy couple with holy water as he blessed them. "God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Ghost, bless, preserve, and keep you; the Lord mercifully with his favor look upon you, and so fill you with all spiritual benediction and grace that ye may so live together in this life, and that in the world to come ye may have life everlasting. Amen."

**October 12, 1881 Tombstone Epitaph **

**Yesterday in a private ceremony performed by Father Martin, Dr. John H. Holliday, who by some is known as Doc Holliday, was united in marriage with Alexis Montgomery McCulloch. **

**The happy couple met by chance several weeks ago when Mrs. Holliday, who had been widowed more than a year before, came to town to discreetly settle one last detail of her late husband's estate. The detail, we have learned, turned out to be property rich with a large vein of silver, yet undiscovered just northwest of the Clanton ranch. **

**It seems Dr. Holliday is as lucky in love as he was in his gambling endeavors. The fortunate doctor of dentistry will have all money he needs to supply his patients with gold teeth for the mine of silver is yet undetermined in value, but so far exceeds any previous claims registered in the state. **

**Dr. and Mrs. Holliday will settle their business affairs before taking an extended honeymoon in Europe. Accompanying the happy couple are their new business partners Virgil, Wyatt and Morgan Earp along with their spouses. **

**We wish the group and their new enterprise much success. **


	69. EPILOGUE

**EPILOGUE**

**One year later…**

"Henry! Henry!"

"Good Lord, Rachel, what is the matter with you?" Henry Holliday put his pen down along side the column of numbers he was totaling. Working on the household budget was never one of his favorite tasks. Any excuse to hold off the inevitable was a welcomed one. He looked over the rim of his glasses at his young wife as she made her way down the hallway. Much younger actually, twelve years younger if the truth must be told, but that was nothing these days and particularly in the South. The War Between the States had taken a lot of the young men, making the choices for a husband very sparse for many young girls. That dark period had been over for a long time now, but the scars it left behind had yet to fade. "Calm yourself. Why, you're actually running like a schoolgirl."

Rachel Holliday ignored her husband's comments as she flew through the doors of his study not stopping until she stood by his desk. "He's coming." She gasped while struggling to catch her breath. "I've just now received this telegram. He's coming home."

Henry ripped off his glasses and leaned back into his chair as he looked up at his flustered spouse. "Who's coming? Good God woman, you're making no sense at all."

She shoved the telegram under his nose. "John. Your son." She replied dryly. "He just wired to say he's coming home for a visit. We are to expect him by supper time tomorrow."

When Henry took the notice from her hand a slight tremble suddenly emerged in his fingers, making it difficult to grasp the smooth paper. "My John… coming here?" He asked while scanning the notice.

"Yes, but that's not all; he's bringing a wife, Henry. A wife!" She rolled her eyes heavenward. "Lord only knows what kind of woman he married. Do you realize the stir his visit will cause? I don't know how I will ever gather the courage to face the ladies on the church committee."

Her sordid words had no affect on Henry's temperament. Actually, he wasn't listening at all to what she was saying. There was only one thought in his head… after nine long years, his son was finally coming home. He knew this could only mean one thing. "You better get the spare room ready, Rachel dear…" He paused as he began to make a list in his head. "We'll need a nurse, and Doctor Wells must be notified, oh, and my brother John. I'll want him here for a second opinion…."

Exasperated by her husband's odd train of thought, she brushed an impatient hand over her hair and frowned. "Henry, what on earth are you talking about? A nurse… the doctor? I don't understand."

Glancing away from the telegram, he turned sad heartfelt eyes in her direction. "There's only one reason that John would be coming here. It must be nearing the end for my boy, Rachel. Obviously, he's coming home to die."

Her hand flew to her face accompanied by shame at her hard words. "Oh dear, that thought never occurred to me." Gently and with a remorseful tone she tried to console her husband. "Oh, Henry, I'm sorry." She knelt at her husband's feet, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "Don't think the worst, dearest. Maybe things are not that bad, maybe…"

He waved away her positive thoughts. "It's been nine years, Rachel. My first wife didn't last nearly that long." He stood up from his chair and walked toward the window. "No, I believe I'm right." He replied quickly, while turning around to face her. "I want him to be comfortable and welcomed here, do I make myself clear?" The tone and manner of his voice silently conveyed what he refused to discuss aloud.

John's soiled reputation was a minor infraction in his eyes, but Henry was well aware that society was not so understanding, especially where his wife and her family were concerned. His enlighten state of mind was not entirely clouded by his fatherly love; mostly it was a large dose of guilt that lubricated his forgiveness. He knew without a doubt that John exodus to Texas would not have occurred so easily, nor so quickly, if he had been more supportive of his son's relationship with his first cousin, Martha. It was true that Martha's family was opposed to the union and used their religious beliefs for grounds of refusal, but Henry was certain that if he had supported his son by helping to negotiate on his behalf things might have been resolved to everyone's satisfaction. Instead, he had quickly dismissed his son's feelings and callously suggested he take another girl as his wife.

He would not make the same mistake again. Certainly not after God had allowed him the opportunity to make amends before his only child died. He was determined that society would see a unified and supported family standing behind his son and nothing less. If their close social circle disapproved, then let them do so directly to his face, or let them be damned. It was this understanding he now expressed to his wife.

"Yes, Henry." She replied in a repented tone as she rose to her feet. "Of course, I will do everything I can for him, and for his wife as well."

"Yes, his wife, too." He echoed. As he walked off to send a telegram to his brother, John, he wondered briefly if he was a grandfather.

* * *

A pleasant breeze blew across the landscape. Valdosta, Georgia was experiencing some beneficial fall weather. The cool temperature was a relief after the excessive heat and hard rains they had that summer. Henry Holliday used his handkerchief to wipe the back of neck as he paced the length of his study before pulling out his pocket watch for the fifth time, looked at the hour and snapped it closed. _He should have been here by now_, he thought. He hoped this wasn't a bad omen and that his son would still be arriving. Until this moment he hadn't realized how anxious he was and how much he missed his only child.

He paced to the window again, and looked out just in time to see a hired open-topped carriage pull up to the walk. Sitting in the back was a remarkable couple. The man was tall, well clothed, and from what he could see from the window, in very good heath. Clearly this was not his son. The woman with him was elegantly dressed and refined in appearance, with blonde hair and smooth-pale skin. In her arms she held an infant. _Visitors_. He scowled. He had no patience for visitors today. Henry turned away from the window and met his wife in the hallway. Together they walked out to the front porch to greet the mysterious couple.

"Is it…?" Rachel asked in a hushed whisper.

"No, I think not. This gentlemen is too healthy to be…" He stepped forward to greet the man and nearly doubled over with shock.

"Good Lord! John, it really is you!"

"Indeed it is." Doc took off his hat and extended his hand. "Hello Father, you look very well."

"John." He choked, as he took the offered hand, but instead of the customary handshake he unexpectedly pulled his son into his arms and hugged him.

Alex stood at the foot of the porch steps and watched this very emotional reunion between father and son. The woman on the porch was also entranced by the scene, but would every now and then shift her eyes toward her as if she was trying to come to some kind of conclusion. _I know what you're thinking_, Alex surmised, _and oh boy, are you wrong._

After several tender moments, Doc finally stepped back from the elderly man standing before him. His father had gotten so old. He had not expected this. He had also not expected the warm welcome he was receiving. This was not the Henry Holliday he had left behind almost nine years ago. His father, who was usually so cool and distant, was visibly shaking and completely flustered.

Reluctantly, he turned his attention away from his father to greet his stepmother. He grasped her hand gently and nodded. "Mrs. Holliday, it is very good to see you again, and how remarkable you look."

"Welcome home, John." Rachel replied before darting an anxious glance at Alex again.

Rachel's apprehensive looks at Alex did not escape Doc's notice, and judging from the expression on his wife's face, she hadn't missed them either. The significance of Alex's introduction would set the mood for the rest of his visit. Would she be well received, or would she be faced with a cold disapproving greeting? He hoped it would the former. After a nine-year absence from his family, it would be a tragedy if he were forced to tell his stepmother to take her Christian attitude, along with her bible, and shove them straight up her ass.

He put aside his nerves and with head held high he stepped directly in front of the firing squad. "Father, I'd like for you to meet my wife, Alexis." Doc extended his arm toward Alex signaling her to step forward. "We were married last October in Arizona. Darlin, my father, Henry, and his wife, Rachel."

Alex smiled brightly and nodded her head. "It is a pleasure to meet you both."

Henry was still too shocked to utter more than a polite reply, but Rachel managed to take up her hostess role. "It is very good to meet you. How happy Henry and I were to hear John was married." She lied in what she hoped was a convincing tone. "And who is this?" She asked as she stepped forward to get a better look at the baby Alexis was holding.

Alex smiled softly and looked toward Doc, silently asking him to introduce his son.

"This is the newest member to the Holliday family, my son, John Henry, Jr." He took the baby from Alex and gently passed him to his father. "Meet your grandfather, little John." He cooed to the baby.

Henry Holliday finally found his voice once the baby was comfortably settled in his arms. "Married and with a son." He gasped. "Well done, John, well done." He remarked with tears springing to his eyes. "This is very good news. How old is my grandson, Mrs. Holliday?" Henry asked Alex.

"He's two months old. Born on August 18th."

"Was he born in Arizona?"

"No, in Philadelphia." Doc replied. "I've been taking some refresher courses at the Dental College. Alex was not thrilled about delivering in rural town so we stayed in the city until after his birth."

Henry looked at his grandson's blue eyes and small, perfectly formed mouth. He held out his little pinky and smiled when the baby latched onto the finger with his hand. "He's got quite the grip, and no birth defect. Marvelous."

Doc inwardly grimaced at his father's callus mention of his cleft palette. "No, there were no abnormalities."

"Why don't we go inside," Rachel offered, "and you can tell us everything?"

A fresh pot of tea and cookies eased the tension somewhat, but the real icebreaker was the baby. Alex had become pregnant almost two months after their wedding. It was her early Christmas present to John. It had been a surprise and a joyous event as well, but the timing made her worry. She wanted to meet her in-laws and to help her husband mend the wounds with his father, but it would have been the perfect recipe for disaster if John had come home unexpectedly with his tarnished reputation still hanging over his head, not only married but with a pregnant wife in tow. So, she had suggested they postpone the reunion until after the baby's birth in hope that tensions would be eased when they presented Doc's father with his first grandchild. Now, as she watched Henry and Rachel play with the baby she knew she had been right. Alex made a mental note to remind her husband of her exceptional wisdom when they returned to the hotel later.

After relinquishing her hold on John Jr. he was passed back and forth between his grandmother and grandfather. Thankfully, she had fed and changed little John right before their visit, so he was at his best, at least for a little while. She glanced down at the tiny watch pinned to her pocket. Well, at least for another hour and a half. John Jr. was a stickler about his feeding schedule. When it was time to eat he let the world know about it. After her first week of motherhood she had concluded that her son had inherited his father's temper and vocal cords.

From her position on the sofa, Alex watched Doc carefully and tried to measure his stress level. For a full five minutes he wandered about the living room looking at all the familiar things from his childhood. At one point he ran a loving hand over a platform rocking chair before turning to her to exclaim, "This was my mother's favorite chair. She would spend the evening sitting in it reading or sewing, and I would find my place on the floor by her feet to do my studies." He smiled a soft inward smile. "Those were good times." When the servant brought the tea, Doc relinquished his tour and took his seat next to Alex.

"I'm amazed at how well you look, John. How do you feel?" His father exclaimed once again.

"I am well, sir."

"More than well, I say. You've filled out, put on weight. It's absolutely amazing. Why, when you telegrammed I thought that…" His words drifted off, thoughts better left unsaid with only the hidden meaning implied. He shot Rachel an uncomfortable glance. In return his wife raised one worldly brow in his direction before looking back down at the baby she held. John Jr. was busy playing with his new grandmother's necklace and cooed loudly when he finally got a firm grip on the gold chain.

Doc nodded thoughtfully and repeated his earlier comment. "No, I am very well and happily married." He placed an affectionate hand on Alex's arm. "Alexis and I have been very busy with our son's birth, my schooling, and building a house and a business office. I've got my hands full."

"Are you building in Pennsylvania?" Rachel asked.

"No, in Kentucky. I've got a vested interest in a horse farm. The land in Kentucky is prime for raising racers. The house is completed, although there are a million little things that need to be done. My dental office still needs to be set up, but we plan on returning soon. I wanted to pay you a visit before we leave for home. I apologize if my sudden arrival gave you the wrong impression."

"Nonsense. I'm delighted to see you. Why if you hadn't been so stubborn I would have come to visit with you, but you never stayed in one place for very long, and well… I got the impression you didn't want to see…" He paused and cleared his throat having realized his once again put his foot in his mouth.

Alex quickly interrupted before things became any more uncomfortable for father and son. "The time is right for a reunion, Mr. Holliday, and that is all that matters now. Let the past stay where it belongs."

Her kind, yet direct words took him by surprise. Apparently his son chose very well when he married this young woman. "Very well said, Alexis. May I call you…?"

"Please." Alex finished for him. "Alex, if you prefer. It is how my family calls me."

"Where is your family? I hear a hint of a European accent in your speech." Rachel inquired with unconcealed interest. This young woman was not what she had expected her stepson to call his wife, and with every passing moment she was becoming fully convinced Alexis was not the typical western harlot, but a woman who had been well schooled. Her mannerisms and deportment spoke of a proper upbringing, hidden clues from the way she sat to the easy manner in which she held her teacup told Rachel she had been brought up in a socially established home.

Alex smiled softly feeling very well prepared to answer any questions Doc's family might have. With her husband's help they decided on what family background she would relate to everyone. She would stick to the truth, being easier to remember and also the most believable. They would simply leave out the year and a few minor details. "As a child, I lived in England and on occasion, Paris. My parents were killed in an accident when I was thirteen. My aunt and uncle, who live in Paris looked after me until I came of age. They thought it best that I receive my schooling in a girls school in Shrewsbury, England."

"Europe. How exciting." Rachel offered, thoroughly encouraged by the answer she received. "How then did you come to be in America?" She continued to pry.

"My late husband and I lived in California. He had some business holdings in Arizona. My intent was to settle his affairs before I returned to England to live, but I met your son while concluding my business in Arizona."

"By yourself? Isn't it dangerous for a woman to travel alone in that part of the country?" Henry acquired slightly alarmed.

Alex chuckled softly. "Very dangerous, sir, which is how I met John. He was kind enough to offer his services. Once word got around that I was well guarded, no one tried to step out of line. A strong reputation goes a long way in the West, Mr. Holliday. But I wasn't entirely alone; I had my two cousins with me. They own a cattle ranch in California, but were kind enough to interrupt their work to accompany me to Arizona."

"Your late husband owned land there?" Rachel prompted.

"Yes, he did, and I'm very glad I looked into things personally. It seems the land he owned was rich in silver."

They both looked on with amazement. "Good Lord! Are you telling us you own a silver mine?" Henry blurted.

"Yes, Father, that is exactly what my wife is relating. It is also the main reason I married her, being a rich widow, I thought it wise to secure her immediately. Good women are a rare commodity in the West. Rich widows are highly valued and worth their weight in gold." He smiled brightly at Alex's reprimanding glare and continued, "Obtaining her was not an easy task, however. I had a devil of a time convincing her to remain here in America."

"Why…. this is astounding." Henry exclaimed loudly while looking at Alex with new insight.

John Jr. suddenly burped his affirmation and they all laughed.

* * *

Doc Holliday's boot heels made a soft clopping noise as he made his way across the wooden foyer, through the second set of doors, and then down the aisle. He had only passed the first couple pews before he paused to look around the church's interior. This was not his world. In a way he was as much a stranger here as Alex was to this century.

The room was large, the building itself an impressive structure. When occupied the chapel would easily hold two hundred people. It was by far the largest church he had ever entered. Cut glass was the dominant display. Each stain glass window told a colorful story from the bible. Gold chandeliers hung from the ceiling and matching onyxes lit the surrounding walls, giving the room a soft warm glow. Toward the front he saw a stage, one that the priest and altar boys would occupy during Mass. To the left were rows of chairs for the choir, and toward the right a large pipe organ so beautiful in its magnificence that even he was moved to hear it played. On either side of the aisle were twenty-five rows of benches, fifty in all. The pews were large, made of oak and lined with maroon velvet cushions for the devout to stay comfortable seated. Matching cushioned platforms lined the floor in front of each pew for the purpose of knelling and praying during services. Each purgatory bench would comfortably hold approximately ten people. In the back of the chapel was a second floor balcony reserved for special guests. He surveyed the lavish room once more as he strained to decipher the hushed whispered prayers from the few occupants. It really was a beautiful church. As Alex had simply stated, it was Catholic comfort at it's finest.

He smiled at his inward thoughts. His wife certainly had a way with words. Alex had elected to remain outside in the garden while he paid his visit. She arranged herself on a small shaded bench under a fruit tree. His son lay asleep in his wicker basket at her feet. "Take your time," she had told him. "I'll wait here." Her soft, yet steady hand, gave his arm an affection squeeze meant to comfort and ease his nervousness. Halfway to the entrance he looked back at her and thought this heart would burst with love for her and the picture of quiet refinement she presented, a vision of a delicate woman in a flowery cotton dress, pink wrap and a straw bonnet tied with pink ribbon under her chin. He was so proud of her, and completely undeserving, and yet, she was his. Before he turned away he watched her pullout a small book from the folds of his son's bedding and begin to read.

Now that his eyes had adjusted to the soft lighting inside the church, he looked about for the object of his visit. Down toward the front he found her; a solitary figure clothed in black mantel, knelling, of course, head bowed deep in prayer. Another full breath steadied his nerves before he walked toward her.

At first she didn't hear him approach. He waited, cleared his throat and called, "Mattie?"

She raised her eyes slowly, roaming over his shoes, up his pants, jacket, waistcoat and finally resting on his face. It only took her a moment to recognize him, but to Doc if felt longer. Time wavered, and then it began to roll backward. He was fifteen again and she sixteen. There before him was the girl he remembered, same oval face, porcelain skin, worldly eyes the color of rich coffee that at certain moments appeared older than time itself. Her soft, bow-shaped mouth suddenly fell open, her expression one of complete surprise. "John!" She gasped softly and dropped her rosary.

He leaned over, picked up the beads, and helped her to her feet. "Hello, Mattie." He responded in a soft voice laced with the emotion of the moment.

She fell into his arms, hands slipping around his neck, standing on tiptoe as she strained to press her cheek against his. "Johnny." She cried again. "What a wonderful surprise."

The fifteen-year-old boy inside him hugged her tightly, reminisced about the smell of her skin and the feel of her body in his arms. "Is it a sin to hug a nun inside a church?" He teased.

"Who cares." She teased back, and kissed his cheek. "When did you get into town?" She stepped back to get a better look at him, reached for his hands and held them firmly between her own.

"Yesterday. It is very good to see you. You look…." He eyeballed her habit, "Martha Ann, you look like a nun."

"Well, I should certainly hope so after all the vows I took." She shook her head with disbelief. "I can't believe you're here, and how well you look. Is your health much improved?"

"Very much improved." He confirmed.

Her eyes filled with happy tears. "John, dearest." Her arms went around his neck again. "My prayers have been answered." She whispered in his ear.

His hands ached to thread through her hair but that pleasure was now forbidden. The veil and wimple she wore covered her head completely and he knew well enough that underneath the cloth her thick chestnut hair had been chopped short, an atrocity he didn't want to see.

Mattie suddenly remembered where she was and pulled back putting a respectable distance between their bodies. He was right; hugging a man in front of the chapel was not befitting a nun. "Come," she led him over to a pew and gestured for him to sit. "Tell me everything."

They talked for more than an hour. Speaking mostly of family things and her new initiation into the church, when Doc suddenly remembered the time. He glanced briefly at his watch and noted the hour. "Mattie, there's someone I want you to meet." He raised her to her feet.

"Here, John?"

He nodded. "She's outside waiting."

"She?" Her eyes narrowed slightly as she followed him toward the front of the church and then outside. As soon as Mattie saw the woman under the tree she stopped walking and pulled against his hand. "Please tell me you didn't bring that woman home to meet your father?" She scolded.

Doc chuckled warmly and shook his head. "Kate and I parted ways more than a year ago. This is someone very special, and I will add, totally respectable as well. Fear not, Mattie. I promise I won't embarrass you or our family. I'm a changed man." He slipped his hand under her arm and eased her down the walk. As soon as they approached the bench the woman set down her book and looked up.

"Alexis, I would like you to meet my cousin Mattie. Mattie, this is Alexis… my wife."

She couldn't hide her shock; there had been no time to prepare herself for this startling news. Mattie jerked her arm out of his grasp and let out a soft audible squeak. "Wife…." She whispered under her breath.

Alex flashed Doc a dark look and quickly rose to her feet. Gently, she grasped the nun's arm and eased her down onto the bench. "I'm sorry if this comes as a surprise." Alex immediately offered. She sat down beside her and patted her hand.

Quickly, Mattie struggled to regain her composure. "Yes, it is a surprise." The statement prompted Alex to glare darkly at her husband again.

Mattie returned her focus to Doc. "After all this time, you still take pleasure in deviling me." She shook her head slightly before turning back toward the woman. "It is a pleasure to meet you. How…. When did you meet and marry?" Her eyes jerked from Alexis back to Doc before she raised an unsteady hand to her throat. "Dear me, I am flustered, aren't I?"

Doc took up a seat on the opposite bench and tried not to notice the dark looks his wife was flashing him. "We met and married in Arizona, a year ago."

"A year ago! And now you let your family know. John how could you?"

Before he could answer Alex intervened. "Considering the circumstances, John and I felt it would be prudent to tell you in person. We've been abroad for several months and you know how slowly the mail travels from Europe, and after our return…" She looked at Doc and waited for him to continue.

"Alex was heavy with child, Mattie. We wanted to wait until after the birth with hopes that my son would ease the tension in the family." He leaned down and pulled back the blanket to show off the sleeping child.

Mattie gasped softly and immediately knelt on the ground next to the basket to get a closer look. "My Johnny, married and with a son." She remarked to no one in particular. Gently she ran one finger across the child's golden hair. "What color eyes does he have?"

"Blue, of course." Alex replied lightly. "My husband wouldn't have it any other way."

Mattie looked up at Alex and Doc. "Congratulations." She remarked with a sincere smile. "Your father must be ecstatic, John."

"Ecstatic would be an understatement, Mattie. My father and his wife were so overjoyed they were unwilling to let us return to the hotel. We stayed for supper and long into the night, and almost the entire time they played with the baby. My father even changed my son's diaper." He chuckled softly. "My wife was very wise to postpone our visit until after the birth." He gave Alex a humble look, hoping his high praise would in turn grant him some forgiveness for fumbling his earlier introduction. When Alex gave him a quick wink, he knew he had earned his reprieve.

"What did you name him?"

"John Henry, Junior, of course." He replied with a cocky grin.

Mattie looked up at the healthy, happy man sitting before her and recognized a familiar face she had not seen in more than a decade. Gone was the darkness that had hung around him like a storm cloud, and with it the air of danger he had always emitted, like a stalking cat looking for its next prey. His face was flushed with high color, but not the color of fever or sickness. His complexion was radiant, relaxed and with a splash of freckles across his cheeks. She could hardly believe it, but her Johnny was the very picture of a jovial contented man who obviously loved his wife a great deal. On the heels of that thought came a wave of sadness. _It could have been me_, she thought. _Instead of this beautiful stylish woman sitting on that bench, it could have been me, and I would have been the reason for his happiness._ _The clothes, the baby and the man could all have been mine._

Sister Mary Melanie blinked back her tears and quickly pushed her dark thoughts away. These abstract emotions were misplaced. She was content with her life and very fulfilled spiritually serving the Lord. She had made her decision long ago, and refused to mourn over a lost childhood dream.

Alexis thought she saw a flash of longing in the nun's eyes whenever she looked at John. This revelation was only slightly unsetting. Her marriage was secure; she had no doubts about where Doc's feelings lay. What made her uncomfortable was John's desire to flaunt his happy marriage in Mattie's face. Whether it was intentional or subconsciously invoked, by introducing her as he did he was seeking revenge, and damn it, he got it too. The shocked expression on the other woman's face was not something she would not soon forget.

She subdued her anger by telling herself that his actions were only natural, especially from a man who had been hurt as badly as Doc had been. But to use his wife in this manner was unforgivable. When and how she took her retribution could be determined at a later date.

She sat back on the bench and observed the two cousins interact. They conversed with each other so easily, as if their time apart had really only been days instead of years. How hard it must be, she thought, to give up your right to be a woman for the sake of an icon. She doubted very much that celibate priests and nuns were what Christ had in mind when he ordered his apostles to go forth and spread the word. Yet, as a devote catholic she couldn't deny the good that can come from such devotion. As a Guardian, she was as much an instrument of the Lord as any nun or priest.

Alex smiled inwardly as she watched the nun stroke her finger across the top of little John's head. Silently she began to count, knowing it was only a matter of seconds before the inevitable question was asked.

"He's a good sleeper." John offered as he reached down to tuck the blanket around the baby's shoulders.

"Hmm…" Mattie murmured, "too good." A light playful expression lit her face right before she turned to Alex and asked, "Can I wake him up?"

Alex tossed back her head and laughed. She cast a quick glance at her husband and could see by the twinkle of merriment in his eyes that he too had been waiting for Mattie to ask the same question.

"How high did you count?" He asked her.

"Twelve."

He shook his head with disapproval. "Not quick enough. You're losing your edge, Alex."

Alex raised one mocking brow at him. "I shall forget you said that until later… much later, when we are alone." She smiled again when John snorted his reply and reached for his tobacco. She turned back to the nun and answered, "Yes you may, but if he cries you'll have to comfort him."

"Gladly." She squeaked with excitement while slipping her hands inside the basket.

Much to his credit, little John did not shed one tear. Mattie stayed seated on the ground and held the baby on her lap. John Jr. seemed in awe of the nun and her strange headpiece. After carefully examining the device, he came to a decision and tried to jerk it free. The veil took an abrupt forty-five degree turn toward the left side of the nun's face.

"Oh dear!" Alex cried and at once reached to straighten Sister Mary Melanie's attire.

"That's my boy." Doc crooned with amplified pride and lit his cigarette.

"It's all right." Mattie laughed while placing a steady hand to her head. "There are some days I long to do exactly that, yank it off and give it a good toss."

"Hmm," Alex agreed. "I feel the same way about my corset."

Mattie chuckled lightly. "That is one inconvenience I don't have to put up with anymore. The church considers the wearing of corsets as an act of vanity."

"Really?" Alex replied with interest while giving her husband a pointed look. "Appealing and definitely something worth consideration. Tell me Sister, how's the food?"

Doc snorted with amusement and feigned composure by crossing his leg over his knee. "You'd last two weeks, darlin, before you would willingly leave, or they would be forced to kick you out. You haven't the temperament for quiet devotion."

"I'm devoted to you and I don't hear you complaining." She gave him a smug look that did nothing to hide the truth behind her statement.

Doc gave her a wink and took another pull on his smoke.

Alex turned back to the nun. "Are you free for dinner tonight, Sister? I know it's short notice but…"

"Of course." Mattie replied with delight. "I want as lengthy a visit as you can spare. How long do you plan to stay?"

"Hmm, three weeks should be long enough to wear out my welcome." Doc surmised. "We want to be home before the weather turns much colder. However, my father has promised to spend Christmas with us, Mattie. I would welcome your company as well, if your commitments allow you the time."

"Well…" She paused to consider the outcome of his invitation. "Do you have the room for all of us? A house full of company and a baby is a lot of work for a new mother."

Alex laughed lightly and waved away her concern. "I adore the idea of a home filled with family. We have the room and my husband has made certain I have all the help I need to care for the house. I would love for you to come."

Mattie chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully before Doc suggested, "We'll discuss the details at supper. There's a lot more to tell you about my new life, too much to relate at this moment. Shall we pick you up at seven o'clock? I'm dying to tell you everything."

She nodded her consent. "And I want to hear about everything. Why, it almost seems as if a new chapter has begun in your life, John, and one a great deal more pleasant."

"I believe it has, Mattie." He replied while giving his wife an affection smile. "Actually, I'm quite certain of it."

**Excerpt from Alex's Journal - Kentucky, November 1882 **

_We are busy every moment of everyday, and yet I find myself happier than I could have ever imagined. Lately, I've spent my days preparing my home for our holiday company. The house is almost too big for just John, the baby and myself, but I hope the other five bedrooms will soon be filled with more children. Do not think for a moment that I am over worked, on the contrary, John has made arrangements for all the household help I need, and for expert help needed to care for the horses. _

_So far, Wyatt has purchased fifteen racers and a handful of pleasure horses for us to ride. The ex-lawman has exquisite taste when it comes to horseflesh, and his ease at spending the money to acquire these purebreds is as liberal as my husband's abuse of our funds. Thankfully, the mine continues to pure forth its wealth. _

_Doc's new dental practice is promising. I help with his paperwork, bookkeeping and medical files, which satisfies my urge to be productive. I'm endlessly fascinated by his care and gentle techniques he applies to his patients. Crying children and nervous woman are quickly soothed by his light jokes and calm hands. Gone is the sarcastic, dark man I met a year ago. He is so happy lately, and so changed that at times I have to study him to make sure he's the same man I married. _

_The baby is growing like a weed. I spend hours amusing myself watching him play, and explore his world. Motherhood is everything I hoped it was, and I can honestly say that I am as content as my husband. Years of want and longing have faded. I'm relaxed, and at ease. The nightmares that used to plague me are infrequent now, to the point I hardly think about them anymore. This might have something to do with the fact that I haven't encountered anything supernatural in months. Fortunately, Kentucky is not a hub of demon activity. _

_Have I found paradise? Maybe. I can tell you this – a woman would be crazy to want for more._

Alex put down her pen and leaned back into her chair. It had been weeks since her last journal entry. She was determined to make a detail account tonight, but her concentration was not what it should be. The door to the bedroom was open and she could hear John moving around downstairs actively closing up the house for the night. His soft stirrings below were distracting. She could hear the soft click of him locking the front door, followed by the sounds of him extinguishing lamps. There was really no need to lock doors in this town, but it was a habit he had yet to discard. Too many years living on the frontier would do that to a man.

When his soft footstep sounded on the stairs her body stirred and came alive, the ache in between her thighs pulsed stronger with anticipation of a romantic evening. _I have a one-track mind_, she thought and picked up the pen again hoping to finish before John called her to bed.

_Oops, too late,_ she thought when she felt his presence behind her chair. Warm hands suddenly covered her shoulders and began to push the sheer fabric of her robe down her arms. He inclined his head to place a wet kiss below her ear while his hands took a turn toward her breasts, cupping both orbs, fondling her nipples to the point she could no longer hold the pen. "Come to bed, darlin. I need you." He begged in a soft husky voice she had come to know well.

She glanced up at the mirror before her and met his reflection in the glass. Her breath hitched in her throat when she saw the passion in his eyes and promise of exquisite pleasures if she followed him. Alex tilted her head back to receive his kiss and felt her world settle at his feet. It felt true, it felt secure, and it was everything she had hoped and more. _Crazy… most definitely not._ She gave him a hot smile. "I'm here for you John, and I'm most eager to explore this need you have."

"Indeed." He crooned with a silky grin while pulling back her chair so she could stand. "There are wondrous possibilities ahead for both of us, my love."

**The End **

* * *

**A/N: Coming soon, a new story titled, "Doc and Alexis, The Missing Years" which will be comprised of chapters from different years of their life, although not necessarily in chronologic order.**

**As always, thanks for reading.**

**VTY, Bluemousey**


	70. A note to my readers

Hi,

Just wanted to let you know that I've posted a new story. It's a sequel to my other story, "To Protect and Defend". If you liked reading about Doc Holliday and his new love, Alexis, you'll like my new story, "Doc Holliday and Alexis: The Missing Years. Come see what happens to our dear Dr. Holliday after he leaves Tombstone and embarks on a new life.

To reach the story, click on my home page and look for the title "Doc Holliday and Alexis: The Missing Years.

I hope you enjoy it, and as always, thanks for reading.

All the best,  
Bluemousey


	71. Revised Story Note To My Readers

July 16, 2010

Dear Readers:

I've decided to revise my story, "To Protect and Defend". The basic plot will not be changed, but I hope to enrich what is already written and maybe correct some mistakes or even make a few new ones. My progress may be slow due to the amount of time I spend fostering kittens for my local shelter, but please check back from time to time for any updated chapters.

And remember… Spay and neuter your pets, and always adopt from a shelter. More than 30,000 animals a year pass through the doors of the Pennsylvania SPCA in Philadelphia. Only a fraction of them will ever get out alive. **Never buy while shelter animals die!**

**Meow!**


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